I'd Kill You If You Weren't Already Dead
by Backroads
Summary: After helping defeat Voldemort, Ron finds himself not only dead, but a ghost. Worse, his brother Percy had died unbeknownst to the family a year earlier. Worse still, they've been sentenced to spend the next century together. Will they survive?
1. Where Ron Dies

Harry couldn't think right. It were as if some mist had clouded his brain, blocking every motion and sensation he knew he should be feeling until he might as well be dead, a walking zombie under his own twisted control as one desire rang out above all others: Kill Voldemort. His fingers rubbed his wand as he stumbled through the darkness of the graveyard----the moon had hid itself behind a cloud, denying him of even that meager light. He stopped for breath once, listening. Voldemort no longer had any power over him----not physical power, any way. But Voldemort still walked, and Harry was still in danger from him. Well, not for long. This would end soon. Oh, it would end soon. 

He sounded like a lunatic, he realized. Some lunatic out on a mindless kill. Perhaps that was all this really was. He moved forward again, still attentive to any sounds around him. How silent could Voldemort be? He ran his tongue over his chapped lips, squeezed his wand all the tighter, ready to throw it at the first tombstone that moved. Moving grave stones. He was insane. But anything was possible, especially in madness. Ironic that it would end here in a graveyard. How twistedly appropriate.

"Harry."

Harry's heart stopped within him, then frantically resumed its beating. He whirled around, wand arm outstretched, staring wildly as a figure moved into the dim starlight. Tall, with a shock of red hair still visible in the night. Harry's body weakened with a hybrid of relief and fury. "Ron. . . what are you doing?"

Ron seemed to freeze as he spoke. "I couldn't let you come here all by yourself."

"Myself." Harry spat the word out. Of course he was here by himself; it had been intentional. "I'm the only one that matters right now, to Voldemort. Go back to Hogwarts. Right now."

Ron reached for his own hand and slowly shook his head. "No, Harry. I'm sick and tired of watching you nearly get yourself killed just because you''re so stubborn."

Harry kicked lamely at a gravestone, his mind alive again. "It's too dangerous. You know of the prophecy. It''s up to me. It'll either be me or Lord Voldemort when this is all through."

"And what about the rest of us?" The accusation was more than biting, venomous.

How was Harry supposed to reply to that?

Ron hesitated before continuing, his eyes shifting through the darkness in detection of the same tell-tale movement Harry had searched for. "Harry, you've been my best friend for the past seven years. I'm not going to let you go through this alone."

Something across the cemetery grounds snapped. Both boys jerked their heads up. A faint green glow in the distance, a flash of movement across the horizon.. . . And then he was there, hood up to hide the terrible face beneath.

Harry's wand was in control before the rest of him was. "Ron! Get out of here!"

Ron muttered something and moved; Harry could hear his feet on the grass and dirt. He turned to face Voldemort, his mind going through another violent shift. 

"Crucio!" Ron screamed from somewhere.

The incoming beam was thwarted by a quick twist of Voldemort's wand, bounding like a laser over the gravestones.

What did Ron think he was doing? Still, Harry gritted his teeth and took the opportunity. So many spells he had forced himself to learn, so much instinct he hoped he could summon. . . 

"How I have savored this moment, Potter," Voldemort hissed, no jest to hide in his voice, just pure, raw fury. "At least, the hope of it. But I can't savor this. It's just not enough to destroy you. But. . Avada. . ."

"No!" Ron shrieked again. "Crucio!"

Harry turned to see his friend racing as a dim shadow through the gravestones, tripping only once. The spell bounced from Ron's wand, again flinging itself vainly into Voldemort.

"Pest!" Voldemort cried. Without removing his eyes from Harry, he flung his wand around----in the direction of Ron. "Avada Kedavra!"

Harry didn't hear himself scream as he aimed his own wand toward Ron. He barely saw as the green flash covered his best friend for a moment. . . and the body fall to ground. He barely felt anything as he rushed, wand blazing with some spell he himself hardly recalled, at Voldemort. . .

What a headache, Ron thought vaguely as he pulled himself to his feet. Not like any he had experienced before. Yet it only lasted a fraction of a second, leaving him strangely lightheaded. That couldn't be good, not at the time. Not with Harry. . . Harry! Ron had ran at Harry''s command----sort of. Harry hadn't specified a destination. But the cemetery rose slightly at a hill, a perfect spot for faking a decent aim. And hopefully it was causing enough distraction. He shook his head and tried to think of a new plan for distraction. Plan? Who was he kidding? That was Hermione's job. But maybe. . .but maybe Harry didn't need his help anymore.

A chaotic struggle downhill----Ron couldn't make out anything but the blasts of light and sound that sprang from the bedlam like fireworks. "Ugh," he murmured. "Harry had better be winning." Ron should be down there, helping. Here, he felt like a silly spectator. As if he had helped. Crucio. Against no other than Lord Voldemort. What had he been thinking? What an embarrassment. The fiery spells built on each other, each subsequent flash topping the former. He had to admit it was something worth watching----as long as Harry was winning. Then another spell of dizziness hit him…… He shook his head again, suddenly feeling very blind. 

The spell fight. It was over, replaced by the earlier darkness. Except the moon. . that had managed to come out from behind a cloud.

I should get down there, Ron thought weakly.

Slowly, Harry stood up, shook his head weakly, and kicked at something in the dust.

Harry was alive. Alive and visibly fine. "All right!"" Ron screamed jubilantly. "You did it, Harry!" He knew he would. Despite all his complaints and verbal doubts, deep down Ron had always known Harry would survive. "Harry is our king!"

Harry ignored him. He made his way up the hill with the energy mustered only in the epitome of exhaustion. 

Harry had just destroyed Voldemort and he couldn't even be in the mood to celebrate. "Harry," Ron repeated, making no effort to hide the annoyance he felt.

Harry was only feet away, but didn't even bother to give Ron a look. A sob escaped his throat as he wiped away something from his eyes----tears, Ron realized. They were coming faster now. Ron had never seen Harry cry. . .

"Harry, I''m sorry," Ron said, suddenly guilty. "I didn't mean. . ."

Harry dropped to the ground next to something in the grass. Something still and limp.

"No. . ." Ron stepped behind Harry and stared down at the motionless figure. Freckles, red hair.

It was him.

With a scream, Ron leaped back. No. It couldn't be. He was right here. Walking around. Trying to get Harry's attention. . . what had happened. That green flash from Voldemort.

"Harry!" Ron screamed loudly. No response. "Harry!" He punched at him, and felt a sudden blaze of warmth as his hand passed through Harry's neck. He felt nothing else.

He was dead.


	2. In Which People Drop Bodies

Dead. The word echoed in Ron's mind, suddenly meaningless. Dead. But he couldn't be dead; that was impossible. Dead people were, well, dead. He had never given much thought to ghosts and all that----heck, he had never even spent much thinking on death. Not even when Sirius Black had died. But Ron was. . . no! He jabbed his fist one more time through Harry. Yes, it was still through, a disturbingly warm sensation that shot through his entire body----did he even have a body?! How could it be? But there he was, standing near Harry, and yet lying motionless on the ground. Cold, still. . . He forced himself to stare at his own face. Yes, it was definitely him, the same familiar freckled face he had seen so often in mirrors now frozen in terror.

He hadn't experienced terror when he had. . . died. It had been so quick... heck, he hadn't even noticed. He stepped back, still studying the face and trying to figure out just how he felt about this. Feel? There was too much to think about. His own dead body on the ground, Harry sobbing over it. Voldemort had just been defeated, thank goodness. Hopefully. Ron shot a glance down the hill to where smoke still rose from the battle scene. Voldemort had better be dead. Harry had better not be wasting time while Voldemort was still alive. Like one of those really bad Muggle horror films Hermione had talked about. Slashers, she had called them. In every one, the main characters never checked to make sure the villain was really dead. Good grief, that had better not be happening right then. Then again, why was he worried about Voldemort? His own body was lying dead on the grass. . . . Oh, it couldn't be real. Summoning all the courage he had, he leaned over and touched his body's cheek. His hand melted into the pale flesh.

It was true. He was dead. He shot back up, feeling a strange rush of air as he did so. "Bloody. . ." he murmured.

Harry sniffed and vainly attempted to wipe the tears from his eyes. "Ron, you idiot. . ."

"Idiot?!" Ron echoed. He had just died, and his best friend was calling him an idiot. Or more specifically his body; Harry didn't seem to notice the other Ron standing only feet away. "I'm an idiot? I just provided a distraction. Without me you probably couldn't have beaten You-Know-Who!" He couldn't even say the name in death. "He would have killed you had I not attacked him."

Killed Harry. He regretted the words as soon as he had said them. Harry was still alive while he was dead. Fresh anger shot through him. He was dead while his best friend lived. And Hermione lived. And his family. . .

What were they going to think?

He screamed and kicked at the dirt. His foot went right through the earth. Moist. Slightly warm. His body. . . He had a sudden flashback of a funeral he had attended as a child----some obscure relative who had never bought him candy. A coffin being lowered into a hole in the ground. He looked again at his body and shivered. He didn't want to be buried! There were spiders in the dirt.. . . .

Harry sniffed again and managed to climb to his feet, still muttering about Ron being an idiot. Taking a deep breath, he reached down and clumsily pulled Ron's body over his shoulder in an awkward fireman carry. Or tried to. Harry still wasn't all that big. . .

Ron stared at the scene in disbelief. "You moron! You just dropped my body!" It was weird, no, disturbing to watch----like watching some sick photograph from Fred and George's shop.

Harry swore and tried again, thankfully managing a less cumbersome position that worked. It didn't change the fact that Ron's face was now covered in dirt. Ron suddenly felt very violated. What was Harry doing to him?

Harry drew another breath and stared sadly down the hill. A strong breeze had evidently picked up, swirling at the ashes and smoke until Ron almost dared to believe there was something down there. But nothing alive. Lord Voldemort had indeed been defeated. With a heavy sigh, Harry spoke. "Sorry, Ron." Then, with a distinctive pop, Harry vanished, taking Ron's body with him.

Leaving Ron alone in the graveyard.

He stared blankly at the spot where Harry had just been. Apparation. . . Harry had most likely gone back to Hogwarts. Or the Burrow, to tell Ron's family. And do what? Apologize? Harry had just apologized to him. As if Harry should be sorry. He wasn't the one who was dead. But he was the one having to tell people about this. . . His family. What would they feel? Couldn't Ron just. . .? No. He felt so weak. What about his family? His parents, his brothers, his sister. What were they to hear? His mother, tears silently streaming down her face because her youngest son was dead. Had he caused that? But he couldn't have. Harry had told him to leave, but he hadn't. Perhaps he had been a bit of an idiot. 

He felt something on his cheeks. Tears. He brushed them away. At least he could touch this. . . body, or whatever it was. It seemed normal enough----perhaps that was why he hadn't realized he was dead right off the bat. He swung his arms. There was a difference; no subtle pull of the muscles, no tiredness coming from a few swings. Amazing how much he noticed when he actually paid attention. And then there was the more noticeable difference: he could see right through himself. He held his hand before his face. The misty night made more grey shadows for everything, but now that he considered it, he had no color. He waved his hand, studying the faint outline of trees and gravestones through his hazy grey hand. He dropped his hand to his side. Ugh. Well, he was used to this sort of thing. He had to be, somewhere inside of him. He had grown up among the ghosts of Hogwarts, had made jokes about their transparency, throwing things through them. And here he was: one of them. That couldn't be. Logic again failed him. He waved his hand again, trying to shake the sheer disturbing nature of it from himself. He had just accepted that he was dead---why should being a ghost be any different? Of course he could be a ghost. It was perfectly rational: die and become a ghost. Except he had never thought he would be a ghost. Didn't dead people go. . . somewhere? Not everyone became ghosts upon death. Why him?

He was just like Moaning Myrtle.

"I don't want to be a ghost!" he said aloud. He expected his voice to echo. It didn't.

Stunned, he shook his head. Of course it didn't echo. He was dead. He didn't have the vocal cords and whatnot to bounce vibrations or however the anatomy of the voice worked. Harry hadn't heard him, that much was clear. Nor had Harry seen him. How could that be? He had seen all the ghosts at Hogwarts. He could see himself! And he had to be a ghost. Was he an invisible ghost? Had there been hundreds of extra ghosts at Hogwarts that he had never seen? Spying on him? Had he just joined them? Or was he something else all together? The possibilities were disturbing.

One thing was for sure: he didn't want to remain in the graveyard. He had already experienced more than his share of death. He had to get to his family.

Only. . .how did he do that? Harry had Apparated. Could Ron still Apparate? It wasn't just some spell that required just a mindless body, was it? "This had better work," he muttered. He closed his eyes and willed himself to the Burrow. He felt nothing. He was still in the cemetery. "Dang." But it had to work. It had to. Ghosts had to have more powers than just floating around.

Floating around. He looked down. He seemed to be standing firmly on the ground. Or was he? Perhaps he was just so used to that he did it even as a ghost. And he had kicked through the ground, hadn't he? He tried it again, and his foot entered the soil. Only he didn't feel that, just the slightly warm sensation. Lower, he thought. He jumped once, and came down to where he sank into the ground to his ankles. Like something was sucking them in . . . With a yelp, he jumped back out. Well. . . he could clearly go down. What about up? He again sprang into the air, willing himself to hover. He wavered once, but there he was, standing a good three feet above the cemetery ground. He was floating. In the air. Years of anti-fear-of-heights from riding broomsticks vanished in an instant and panic set in. With a scream, he tumbled to the ground----and through it. The earth sensation seemed to pull him in. . . he forced himself back up. Now he was a couple inches above the ground. He couldn't even go back to that normal state. Slowly, he moved up and down until he was once against at ground level. Or at least as close as he could come, the best he could hope for. It wasn't so bad. It might just take some practice. Just like everything else.

Yet it still didn't solve the problem of leaving the graveyard. He had Apparated to the graveyard----back when he was alive, he thought bitterly. He didn't know where the place actually was, so he couldn't exactly float back. What would Hermione do in such a situation? 

Hermione. What would she do when she learned he was dead? He suddenly missed her very much. 

But if Hermione were there. . .she'd probably yell at him to figure it out for himself. Good old Hermione. He sat down on a gravestone to think. Actually, he hovered about an inch into it. So maybe Apparation did require a body to work. Well. . . he sort of had a body. A ghost body. He was there, in some form. Some invisible form. But it probably wasn't as good as a mortal body. So maybe all he had to do was try really hard. There was a thought that made everything loads better. He shook his head in disgust and once again tried to imagine the Burrow. The kitchen. . .fresh pain shot through him at the thought of his family. But if he wanted to see them.. . . He closed his eyes and concentrated on the Burrow and every thing he had learned during the Apparation lessons. If only he had paid more attention. He yelped as he felt himself torn away from the cool sensation of the gravestone into a whirl of color. . . the kitchen flashed before him briefly. . .he didn't think he saw anyone. . . And then he was back in the cemetery, sprawled on the ground, and more dizzy then he had ever felt in his life.

Well, he had sort of Apparated. Groaning, he sat up. Kind of weird that ghosts could feel dizzy.

"There's an easier way of doing that," a voice suddenly said.

Ron looked up. The ghost of a girl hovered above him, hands stretched out next to her psychotically grinning face. "What the. . .?"

The girl sighed and shook her head, lowering her hands. "It's really not that hard. I've never seen anyone have so much trouble with it!"

"With what?" he asked, slowly inching back from her.

"Vaporating, of course!" she said happily. Too happily. 

"What the heck is vaporating?"

She sighed again, clearly annoyed. "I don't have time for this. I have an entire graveyard to haunt. No one wants to haunt them anymore. They all think it's too cliché." She rolled her eyes. "Well, it's your own fault if you don''t know how to do it."

The girl was insane. "Do what?"

"I just told you. Vaporating."

He still had no idea what that was, but he wanted to get away from the girl. "Look, I just died, okay? I'm kind of new to this."

She studied him carefully. "Oh. A newbie. I see. Eh, I can't even be bothered with those. Like I said, I have to haunt this graveyard."

"There's no one to haunt," Ron said, looking around. 

The girl looked very irritated. "Well. . . people come in to bury people. . ."

"But no one is being buried right now. . ."

"You annoy me. If I tell you how to do it, will you leave?"

Ron wanted nothing more. "Yes."

The girl forced a smile. "Vaporating is like Apparating, only not."

"That doesn''t help any," he replied.

"You''ll figure it out. Try again."

Yes, try again. But he still felt so dizzy. "Who are you, anyway?"

"Jamie McFly," she said. "I'm buried. . ." She looked over her shoulder. "Actually, my grave's in Ireland, but I actually died here. It was really kind of cool. You see. . ."

Now she wanted to talk. "Look," he interjected. "I'm just going to try again. Go haunt your cemetery."

"I believe I will." She floated off.

Ron watched her go. How had she been able to see him? He wasn't in the mood to think about such things anymore. He closed his eyes and envisioned the Great Hall. . . Within seconds, he was there, but not quite. He saw the blurry outlines of the tables. . . forms of people. . .he heard voices. Then he was whirling back to the graveyard. . no! He forced his mind back. Back to the Great Hall.. . .it wouldn't let him stay. But he couldn't go back to the cemetery! Color and sound spun him around him like a tornado. . . and then it stopped.

He lay where he was, trying to fight to the intense dizziness trying to overwhelm him. Then, slowly, he opened his eyes.

He was in Dumbledore's office. He had only been there once or twice, but in the recent couple of years, so he recognized the dozens of portraits that adorned the walls, the strange instruments on Dumbledore's desk. A fire blazed in the hearth. Strange. . .he sensed no heat from it. People were gathered around it, talking in low voices.

". . . I really don't remember much about it." Harry's voice, faint and void of all emotion. Tired.

Ron sat up.

"I don't blame you," Dumbledore replied softly. "But what's done is done."

"I told him to leave," Harry said. "I told him to."

A sob broke out. Ginny. She sat on the floor, arms wrapped around her knees. Hermione sat next to her, silent, face streaked with tears.

No, Ron thought. 

"Thank-you so much for bringing him back, Harry," his father said, voice cracking. Ron's parents stood at the edge of the hearth, holding each other. 

Ron's body lay on a white sheet, no more real than a child's doll.

He hated to watch this. How could he have wanted to come? To see his family like this. . .he couldn't see their pain. He had to comfort them somehow. . . 

"Voldemort is finally dead, though," Dumbledore said. "I know that can't mean much right now. . ."

"Of course it couldn't," Ron muttered. No one turned to look at him. Could they still not hear him? Jamie had been able to. Perhaps it was just because she was a ghost, but. . . it was certainly worth a shot. He climbed to his feet. "Mum, Dad, I''m here."

They didn't look up.

This was so unfair. He could stand right in the middle of them, and they still wouldn't be able to see him. He could only be seen by weird graveyard-haunting ghosts. What was the point of it? Well, he didn't want to watch, anyway. This was their mourning time.

But where was he supposed to go now?

Death really wasn't all that wonderful, as far as he was concerned.

Author's Note: Wow. This isn't all that funny as of the first few chapters. I know it says "Humor" for the genre, and I promise it will get funny. But I suppose I can't make fun of grieving. So please be patient, and I'll try and stick in humor when I can.

5/9: Edited!

Much thanks to everyone who read and reviewed the first chapter: nkittyhawk, awkward, Jamie McFly (bwahahaha!), Written In Stars, Tap Dancing Widow, Icy Dragon Claws, viu, and Crystal Lightening!


	3. Photographic Poking Wars!

Ron had never liked rain. It was something pathetically dreary, an obstinate affront to proper Quidditch practice, and far too wet if no other complaint could be made. He still hated it, even as he sat curled up near the school's main entrance, watching with some subtle fascination as the fierce torrents of rain sliced through him with a misty chill he could still feel. One of the more disturbing things he had seen all night. So much water. . . he wondered if ghosts could become water-logged. But it didn't seem so; the rain just poured through him as if he weren't there. Actually, it was kind of cool. Convenient. Rainy day Quidditch would be a breeze. While the opposing team fumbled about in the rain, blinded by the water, he'd be. . . He shook his head. What a thing to be thinking about. Not appropriate at all. He had just been murdered, his family was grieving, and yet he sat there making plans for Quidditch! With all the other things to worry about. . . did any teams let ghosts join?

  
  
He sighed and waved his hand through the air, watching the way the rain looked through his misty self. Who was he kidding? Even if he could be seen, well, he couldn't do much about not being able to touch anything. Not the balls, not the brooms. . . No. His hand dropped to his side. He had just gotten a new broom! What a waste! Now it'd have to go to Ginny or one of the twins, a most definite destruction sentence. 

Ron looked back at the castle, bitter dark in the rain. They were still in there in Dumbledore's office, giving what comfort they could to each other and whatever else people did when someone died. Had anyone else been told? It would be a most Harry thing to do to go straight to Dumbledore. Or the Weasleys. Harry had better have gone first to them. But they had all been with Dumbledore, which suggested he had called them all there. Ron frowned. Harry really wasn't doing things properly that night.

Harry. . . Ron wasn't going to be able to talk to him again. Or his family. Or Hermione. Something inside of him hurt. His last conversation with Harry had been barely under an argument. Hermione. . . that had been an actual fight. About going after Harry. So stupid. He had never even told her how he felt about her. . . He couldn't even remember the last thing he had said to his parents. And now they were all gathered together and he couldn't say anything. They couldn't see him. Stuff like that had always been so much fun with an invisibility cloak. But now. . .

Maybe he could go back and try one more time. . . Pointless. He sighed again and wondered which of the hundreds of glowing windows revealed Dumbledore's office. He couldn't even remember how he had left that room. He had been there, watching everyone and wishing so intensely that he didn't have to see it. And then. . . that scene had faded away. How had he done it? He hadn't been paying attention to the details. Perhaps Jamie had been right and he simply was trying too hard. He had made the same mistake repeatedly when he had been learning to Apparate. After all, he was moving a spirit, not a physical body. It was probably just one of those things. He smiled weakly. He just might get the hang of it eventually. 

Anyway, it had worked. He was not with his family anymore but outside. In the storm.

Why did it always have to rain when people died? As if the time weren't depressing enough? It was probably going to rain at his funeral as well. Even more depressing. And he'd have to be buried in the mud. And it would be disgusting. And Fred and George would start a mud fight. He suddenly laughed as he was bombarded by the mental image of globs of mud whirling through the air. Yes, Fred and George would certainly do something like that. It might even make things easier. Well, if he had to die and have a funeral, there might as well be a mud fight. Maybe he could even join. After all, he'd be invisible and that was always great for tactics.

But he wouldn't be able to pick up the mud. Disgusted, he leaned back against the stone wall and through it. He didn't want to attend his own funeral anyway. That was just morbid. A bunch of people standing around in black like in the school hallways between classes only this time crying. Another scene like tonight. . .he couldn't watch that again.

It wasn't fair. Why him? Why did he have to die? There were plenty of people in the world for death to pick from, some who even wanted to die. Then there was him, a kid who hadn't even graduated, who had his entire life before him. What a waste of fate. And he had been trying to help his best friend. Shouldn't he get some credit for that?

That was an interesting thought. He had helped kill Lord Voldemort.

And he had died for it. With a hiss he slammed his fist into the rain. Stupid rain. There had to be some way to blame everything on it.

Yet he was the one pathetic enough to sit in it feeling sorry for himself.

Apparate, he told himself. Or Vaporate, whatever ghosts were supposed to do. Nothing happened.

He sighed. Probably trying too hard. Again. He forced himself to relax. He wasn't moving a body. "Vaporate, Ron," he muttered aloud. "You're a ghost! So Vaporate!"

For a long time, nothing happened. Then he was struck by a rush of cold air, and he stumbled into a fiery orange room. His bedroom. He was back home at the Burrow in his room. Just the way he had left it. Not, not quite. The bed was made; his mother must have snuck in as soon as she could after he had left for school to make it. She couldn't abide Ron's signature messiness. How many hours had she wasted screaming at him? As if he would ever change? 

He drifted over to the bed, orange blankets neatly tucked in under the pillow. It looked wrong. What was the point of making the bed if he were just going to sleep in it and mess it all up again? But he wasn't going to sleep in it. He stared hard at the bed, suddenly hating it. It needed to be messy. He reached for the blankets, imagining them strewn on the floor. His hands went right through the material. He swore and jerked back. Half a dozen books were stacked haphazardly on the shelf. He couldn't knock them off. They sat where they were, mocking him. With a scream he rushed back at the bed, swiping and kicking at it and only feeling a faint rush of something until exhaustion overtook him.

It was a strange feeling, exhaustion as a ghost. He was surprised he could even feel it, an almost overwhelming tingling that spread through every part of him. Trying hard not to cry, he let himself float several feet into the air. It was kind of cool, floating. For some reason it made him feel better. A little.

A framed photo sat on the dresser next to his bed. It was of his family, taken three years previous. His mother had wanted it done, something nice with copies so everyone in the family could have a picture. It actually hadn't turned out that nice, Ron thought as he drifted closer to examine it. They had been late meeting the photographer, so his father had not been in the best of moods. Charlie had lost all sense of maturity and had engaged Ginny and Ron in a poking war. George had levitated a plush turtle over Bill's head. Fred had actually been ill that day, a fact his photo self still wasn't trying to hide. Their mother was in the middle of it, yelling at multiple people. Well, the photo had a lot of good memories attached.

Ron felt the tears coming. He was going to miss them so much. The twins. . . did they even know he was dead yet? They hadn't been with the others. They were probably in London, completely oblivious that their brother had been murdered. But they'd find out. They had often picked on him. . but they were all brothers; it was all affection. Bill and Charlie. . . they were so much older than Ron that they were more like semi-parents. How would they react? 

He watched as his photo self dodged a neck poke from Charlie. Next to them was an empty break in the group where Percy was supposed to be. Ron couldn't even remember what Percy had been doing the day of the photo. Not that it mattered. No one had seen Percy in two years. Not really. He had come to the school with the rest of the Ministry, according to Harry. Ron's father had seen him a few times at work…but those views had also been two years prior. Even those rare sightings were long gone. In the chaos of the war, it wasn't too surprising. What did it matter, anyway? After all Percy had done to the family. . .why would he care that his youngest brother was dead? If he ever found out, what would he say? Ron thought of the letter he had received during his fifth year, that stupid, patronizing thing Percy had written. It amazed him how well he could still recall it. "Congratulations again on becoming prefect." What would another letter say? Congratulations on dying? At least there was one person Ron wouldn't miss in death.

He waved his hand through the photo. The figures didn't flinch----Ron wished they would. He turned away from the picture, thinking. What would his family do with his room now? Keep it sacred? He imagined Fred and George turning it into an extra lab.

"Depressing, isn't it?"

Ron shrieked and whirled around as something--someone--entered the room. But how? He stared wildly at the door. It was closed, had always been closed.

"I'm not at the door anymore, Ron," the voice said, irritated and familiar in that.

Ron slowly looked to the speaker, then closed his eyes. It couldn't be. He opened his eyes, prepared for reality. A figure stood near the bed, silvery white and transparent, with a pair of horn-rimmed glasses set on a displeased face. "Percy?" he asked in disbelief.

Percy rolled his eyes. "The least you could say is hello."

Two years. . . Ron shook his head. It couldn't be real. "But. . .but you're. . ." He stared again at Percy. "But you're dead."

"And so are you."

"But I just. . . I was murdered. . ."

"Yes, I heard," Percy said, impatience heavy in his voice. 

"You had heard?" Ron frowned. "Who told you?"

"I have my ways. Harry Potter was fighting Lord Voldemort, you butted in like an idiot, and. . .yeah, you died." Percy spoke Voldemort's name with surprising ease.

It was more than what a lot of people knew, Ron supposed. His thoughts of earlier returned. So Percy knew. Yet he really didn't seem to care. He had just waltzed into the room, the same jerk as always, only dead. A ghost, just like Ron. But Percy hadn't died. He couldn't have. The family. . .they would have known. Someone would have known. "I can't believe you''re dead."

Percy shrugged and studied a poster on the wall. "Is it so hard to believe? People do die, Ron, as I'm sure you've noticed. Besides, it's not like we've talked recently."

"And that's supposed to be my fault?" Ron snapped. "I'm not the one who ditched our family!"

Ron expected his brother to get angry, but Percy remained silent so long that Ron almost believed that by some twist of fortune he hadn't been heard. But then in a flash Percy was across the room, inches from Ron's face. "What an easy thing to do, to bring that up."

Suddenly it was too much. Ron was dead, a ghost, separated from everyone he cared about. Too much had happened. The last person he wanted to see was Percy. After two years. . . this way. . . not when there were so many other people he wanted to speak with. What sick fate was this? Something inside of him snapped, and his fist swung through the air.

But I'm a ghost, he thought half-way through. This won't work.

His fist collided with Percy's face.

Percy leaped backwards into the air, clutching his nose. "What the heck was that for?"

Ron stared at his hands, confused. "How did I do that?"

Percy swore under his breath, still rubbing his nose. "Good thing that really doesn't do anything; you hit hard. What do you mean, how did you do that? You just hit me, that's all there is to it."

Ron tried a few experimental jabs at the wall. He went right through. "Yeah, but I'm a ghost and you're a ghost and ghosts seem to go through everything else."

"You're such an idiot." Percy sighed and readjusted his glasses. "I thought you could at least figure that much out on your own."

"Figure what out?"

He shook his head with an aura of bored authority. "You can't touch anything living or physical anymore because you are no longer living nor physical. But you're still something. You have to be or you wouldn't be there. You''re a spirit now, so you are on the same level with and can touch other spirit things. Like other ghosts, for instance."

Ron considered that. It made sense. But of course Percy would have to be the one to declare it. He had always treated Ron like he were stupid. "So if I wanted to, I could hit you again?"

Percy studied him, something akin to hatred in his expression. "Like it would do anything? It doesn't hurt, if that's what you didn't know."

"You sure acted like it hurt."

"I'm already dead; what is it going to do?"

"It makes me feel better." Ron considered throwing another punch. So he could actually hit Percy. That was something he had wanted to do for a long time. Pity he was too late to administer the death blow.

"How mature."

"You. . ." Ron swung again, striking Percy in the shoulder. That felt real enough. "How can you talk of maturity? After that stunt you pulled. . . walking out on Mum and Dad and the rest of us. . . you wouldn't even listen to what they had to say. Very mature, Percy."

"As if they would listen to me!" Percy retorted. "I highly doubt you knew what was going on at the Ministry--"

"And then you've been dead for who knows how long?" Ron continued, barely conscious to Percy's rant. He was on a roll--it was all too satisfying to say. "How do you think Mum's going to feel about that? She's been worried sick about you, and you have to go and die without even apologizing first."

"Apologizing for what?" Percy hovered in the air, yet still stood with the same annoyingly perfect posture he always had, like the Minister himself would stroll in at any moment to check on it. "I don't think there's anything I need to apologize for."

That same snotty tone. . . it was more than Ron could bare. "So here you are again, turning all the attention to yourself. As usual. I'm the one who just died. My family--" He put special emphasis on "my"--"has to deal with that and then you have to show up out of the blue and. . ." His voice cracked., and he brushed away tears. "And make everything worse. Out of everyone who I would want to see me, you're the only one who can see me, and I don't want to see you!"

Percy gave a short, dry laugh, which only made Ron angrier. Couldn't Percy even pretend to show pity? "Well, isn't that an honor for me?" he spat. "So no one can see you? Poor Ron. So you think it would be better for everyone if they could see you as a ghost? What a selfless idea."

"Shut up."

"Did it ever occur to you that maybe it takes awhile? Like a couple of days to properly adjust? No one among the living can see you in the first little while."

Ron felt himself blush, if ghosts could do such a thing. "So. . . there aren't any invisible ghosts?"

Percy rolled his eyes. "You really are an idiot. Yes, of course a ghost can be invisible to the living if he wants. But please, invisible ghosts? What are you thinking?"

"I'm sorry, but I've only been a ghost for a few hours," Ron snapped. "And, oh, I'm sorry that I''m nowhere near as smart or as wonderful as you, you creep."

"This is so pointless," Percy muttered. "I can't believe I'm here."

"Why are you here?" Ron waved his hand through a Chudley Cannons figurine. "Is this some ghostly spiritual visitor thing where you have to guide me to the afterlife?"

"Afterlife? This is the afterlife."

"With you in it?" Ron hadn't been that rotten. "What about heaven and all that?"

"You're a ghost instead," Percy explained matter-of-factly. "Wizards have that option. You made a subconscious choice to remain in this world."

"Subconscious choice?" Ron echoed. "That isn't fair!"

"It's not like some Ghost Fairy appears and asks you. And it's not that bad, being a ghost, once you get used to it."

It would take a lot of getting used to. Ron still wore the same dirty robes he had died in. "You still haven't answered my question. Why are you here?"

Percy glared at him. "I don't even remember, what with you going off."

"Then why don't you just leave?"

"It's my home, too."

Ron sniffed. "Hardly." He expected some retort, but there was none.

"Fine," Percy replied coolly. "I will. And you can just haunt the Burrow. Congratulations on dying." With that, he disappeared.

Homework, Hermione thought. There was always homework, always something to learn no matter what happened. She could do that much, at least. No matter that most professors were allowing considerable delay in studies in celebration of Lord Voldemort's final defeat. Not that anyone was celebrating in Gryffindor Tower.

She choked back a sob and brushed at her already tear-soaked essay. On what? She couldn't even remember the assignment. But she had to finish it. Finish it and make it perfect and then everything would be okay.

Ron. The sob broke loose. She could still see it. Had it only been hours ago? She had expected Harry to Apparate outside Hogwarts grounds or fly in or something because of course he would win against Voldemort. She had been waiting for him. . she had gone running out to meet him. He was supposed to be victorious, this triumphant hero who had just defeated the plague of the last few years… But he had Ron with him. And Ron was. . .She still couldn't believe it. She hadn't believed it then. And then Ginny had come, had seen her brother's body. . . poor Ginny. Then Dumbledore--he had contacted the rest of the Weasleys. But it wasn't real, it didn't feel real, like a dream full of too much that just went rushing by.

"Heremione?" A hand pulled back the drapes of her bed, and the light from her wand dimmed against the added candlelight. "Hermione, honey, it's almost four in the morning."

She sniffed and wiped her eyes. "I know, Lavender. I'm sorry if the light is. . . I just have so much homework."

"No, no, it''s okay," Lavender assured her. Strange she was being so nice… "It's all right. You can keep the light if that's what you want."

"We just wanted to see how you were doing," Parvati said softly, her face strangely pale in the dim light.

"I'm fine," Hermione mumbled. It didn't sound even close to honesty. The tears were coming again. Was this the purpose of having roommates? "No, I'm not! Why did he have to go and die like that?"

"It isn't fair," Parvati agreed, climbing onto the bed. "Oh, Hermione, I'm so sorry. The sixth year girls said Ginny fainted again. . . this is too much for both of you."

Hermione nodded. Suddenly tired beyond anything she had ever felt, she fell against Lavender, who hugged her.

"You poor thing."

She cried into Lavender's shoulder, feeling ridiculous. "I love him," she managed between gasps. "I love him, and I never got to tell him that."

SHOUT OUTS:

Awkward: Thank-you for the Ron approval! I don't know how long this one will wind up…….

Crystal Lightning: Aww.. you're so wonderful. When are you going to update your stories? poke 

Hydraspit: Aww…… it's nice to have some forgiveness.

Icy Dragon Claws: I didn't mean to confuse you! has enormous guilt complex I just wanted to confuse Ron…… I hope I explain it well enough in this chapter.

Jenn: Hey, I'm glad you liked the comedy. I think the only comedy it can be is a black one. And always feel free to edit my work.

Krina: Thanks! You'll see how Percy fits in. Eventually. I just had to include Percy because he's so fun to work with.

LJ Fan: Wow. Thank you so much for liking Ron! He was incredibly hard to do in that chapter! I'm glad you approve! I also love this comment "'Oh. My best mate is dead. Hm...I wonder if I'll get a prize for defeating Voldemort.'" I'm glad I didn't do that. But it was such a funny way to think about it!

Nkittyhawk: Yes. There are spiders in the dirt. And I will be contacting you about your request.

v-babe24: Yes, she bugs me about it constantly…… she's everywhere. hides 

Written In Stars: Eh, she seemed to like the cameo.


	4. Return to Hogwarts

The room seemed far too quite after Percy left, a stillness that hung like radiation in the air until everything seemed ready to explode for sudden necessity. How good would that be, the perfect expression of Ron's nerves. He'd explode, if nothing else would. It would beat what he did now, circling the room again and again, striking at everything he came across, not even caring that they weren't affected save for a subconscious hope that on some level they were. Perhaps it was best they weren't touched, even-destroying things didn't necessarily quell anger.

But he could touch Percy. The thought held such comfort. Percy was the only thing he wanted to hit anyway.

He still couldn't comprehend the insanity of the visit. What had been the point? So Percy had shown up like the git he was to mock Ron? After two years. . . they had never been particularly close as it was, and those two years hadn't helped in that area. And in all honesty, Ron hadn't cared. It wasn't his fault-it was entirely Percy's. So what was the purpose of Percy showing up when he was the last person Ron needed?

On some small level, Ron knew he should be swallowing back that issue, at least pretending to feel some semblance of pity. Percy had died, and Ron hadn't known. The situation held a genuine sadness of what should be felt by default. But Ron didn't feel anything but rage. Amazing how the state of the deceased could change things.

He threw another punch through his window into the rain and pulled his fist back, cursing. His voice did little to ebb the painful silence-it only made it worse in its harsh contrast. He kicked finally into the floor. It took a lot out of him, surprisingly enough. He had probably been fatigued for a long time and just hadn't noticed till then. Stupid Percy, ruining everything. Hopefully he had left the house.

Ron gazed at the door, wondering if Percy really was gone and if their parents had returned from Hogwarts. Despite everything, he wanted to see them; they'd be infinitely better than Percy no matter how sad they were. Beyond the silence of the room was noise-the din of the ghoul in the attic, creaking pipes, a mouse scuttling through the walls. The normal sounds of an empty house. Or a house haunted by a single ghost. But he couldn't be sure. After all, he had just died. Perhaps his parents were just quietly grieving in their room or something.

Without thinking, he headed toward the door and experienced momentary mild surprise as his hand passed shadow-like through the brass doorknob. He blinked. "Ron," he muttered to himself. "Bloody good luck in getting that open." He stared at the door for a long time before inspiration hit him with what seemed to be the most original idea in the world.  At least at that time.

"I can walk through walls!" he exclaimed to no one.

He stepped back, stared again at the door, then ran at it as hard as he could.

It was like running into a wall that threatened to throw him back only it didn't as he passed through splinters of wood he could almost feel. He was flung out on the other side, feeling more exhausted than before. He forced his eyes open and looked behind him at the ever-familiar door that was still closed.

"I just ran through a door," he whispered in awe.

And he had been closing his eyes. Of all the stupid things. What he might have seen. . . Well, there was only one solution for that. He ran back through.

The wood of the door... it really wasn't that interesting. Just.... wood. But he had run through the wall again.

"This is so bloody wicked!" he said in amazement. If only he didn't feel so weak...

He'd have to run through the wall again, a third time if he wanted to actually leave his bedroom. Was it still his? Would anyone ever enter it again?

His parents. He had to see if they were there. He passed through the door a third time.

Amazing the fun he was having with that.

The hall was no nosier than his room. No tell-tale creaking of anyone on the staircase. He didn't bother trying to walk down them; he just unsteadily floated down.

The house was empty. The hearth was black, no candles were lit, and the chairs were neatly tucked under the kitchen table he would never again sit at. He gazed sadly at it, thinking of all the meals and arguments he had experienced around it.  His family was prone to that. A window hung slightly open, enough to excuse the puddle of water that was forming on the floor beneath the ledge. His mother wouldn't be happy. Someone should close the window.

This is silly, he thought suddenly. What was he doing, worrying about the water and hanging around for someone to close the stupid window? Of all things, he was haunting his own house. His parents would still be crying when they returned home. His earlier desire disappeared; he didn't want to be there.

"Somewhere else," he muttered. "The Gryffindor common room."

He had to repeat it several times. It was good no one could hear or see him, standing like an idiot in his kitchen talking to himself. But it worked eventually, and he found himself in the familiar darkened common room.

He had been in the common room late at night before. It had always been the basic meeting spot for midnight excursions. But then he had always been in the company of Harry or Hermione or Neville or someone-never had he been alone. It was unsettling how large and dark the cozy room could be, the fire reduced to a few glowing embers(A/N: Written In Stars, that's for you!) struggling against the shadows like fireflies. It was almost worse than the Burrow. The faint light wasn't all that necessary, he realized, as objects quickly outlined themselves before him; his night vision had certainly improved.

A rustle of cloth drew his attention to one of the overstuffed armchairs before the hearth. Harry had fallen asleep there, still dressed in his day clothes. Still in the same clothes he had battled Voldemort in, burnt, torn, and filthy. He probably hadn't even showered.

Ron stared at his friend for a long time. Was this it? All the fun they had ever had together was gone. They hadn't even gotten to say goodbye to one another. At least that much could have been granted. "Harry," he said aloud.

No reaction, as before.

He sighed. Would he ever be able to appear to Harry? Or was Percy right, and appearing to people he knew and cared about was just stupid? Well, what did Percy know? It wasn't like he had any friends. Friends that would have slept out in the common room with the house elves coming in and out for him.

Heremione. What about her? She had obviously made it up to her own bed. How was she doing? She did miss him, didn't she? His mind raced with sudden fear. Their last time together-last fight together-had been so pointless. But what did he expect? The silly little crush he had harbored for so long-no, it wasn't silly! Hermione was so... he didn't know how to describe it. But he had no idea if she returned it. Did he really expect her to be in her dorm rom crying over him as if he were more than a friend?

He looked up the staircase to the girls' dormitories. Boys weren't allowed to go up. They couldn't go up. At least, living boys couldn't go up.... How would whatever enchantment that protected the girls notice a ghost passing over? He laughed. How convenient. He rose a foot into the air and drifted up the steps, all the while watching them for the moment they would fuse together into a slide. They didn't.

He laughed again. Wait until Harry heard about this. . . he felt a twinge of pain. Harry wouldn't heard about this.

Ron was almost to the top of the stairs. And then something exploded from the wall, wailing. A girl.

Ron leaped back with a shout of his own, and tumbled backwards through the wall.

"Get out of there!" the girl yelled. With surprising strength, she grabbed his wrist and dragged him out, flailing, into the stair corridor. "What do you think you're doing?"

The girl was a ghost.

"I. . . " Ron stammered. His mind was a whirl. What did he think he was doing? Somehow saying he was trying to see Hermione wasn't enough.

"You pervert!" the girl snarled. "You were attempting to sneak into a girls' room!"

Sneak? That did make it sound questionable. "I didn't mean-"

The girl rolled her eyes, and for the first time Ron wondered why she had so frightened him. She was quite young-or at least had been so upon her death-about twelve or thirteen, maybe younger. Ron had never been a good judge of age. Long, wavy hair hung past her round face, which currently bore an irritated frown. The robe she wore was slightly too big for her, completing the appearance of an undersized wraith. "Sure, you didn't mean anything. They never do. Good thing you couldn't get in anyway."

"Couldn't get in?" Ron echoed. "The stairs didn't turn into a slide. That's what keeps the. . . living out." It was a hard word to actually say.

"That's what they all think. Ghosts boys. Do you think that with all the spectral energy around this place the Founders would have put defenses up only against the living?"

"I never thought of it that way."

"Of course you haven't." She gestured up the stairs that still led up to the landing before the seven doors. "Go ahead. Try it."

He hesitated. The smile on the girl's face was so. .. knowing. Something horrible would happen if he went up there, he was sure of it. Of course, she could just be playing with his mind. "If I can't go up there, why did you stop me?"

She shrugged. "I felt like it."

Sensible enough answer. He looked to the top of the stairs. Hermione. He made his way up.

Barely was he at the top step than he struck something. Something sticky. "Bleh." He pulled away, feeling the distinctive impression of glue being pulled from his skin. He squinted at the air before him, unable to see anything.

"Ectoplasm," the girl announced.

Ron turned to stare at her. "Ecto what?"

"Ectoplasm,. A very refined, magical variety of it, anyway. The Founders made contact with wizard ghosts and asked them to enchant barriers to keep any mischievous male ghosts out of where they should not be. This is part of it."

"Part of it?" Ron stared at the seemingly empty air in front of him. Unfair he couldn't see it. "Well, the slide thing is more interesting."

"I wouldn't say that," she said with a tiny laugh. She floated up the stairs, past Ron, and through one of the doors, disappearing momentarily. Then she popped back into a view, smiling and waving. "Come over here. I dare you."

"I'd rather not."

"No. Try it. I want you to experience just how fun the barrier is."

Well. . he did have to see the worst of it, he supposed. With a shrug, he came forward.

Instantly the entire hall lit up as a thousand lightning bolts ripped into him, igniting what felt like every cell in his body.

After a few foolish attempts, he managed to pull himself away, feeling like one big mass of static energy. His hair-he felt for it. Yes, it was standing on end. Angrily he pushed it down and glared at the girl. "That wasn't funny!"

She was rolling through the air, laughing hysterically. She whipped over him, grazing his cheek with the hem of her robe. "Yes, it was. So much better than watching boys fall down the stairs. Hilarious."

"Hmph." He still felt tingly all over. "It wasn't funny at all. I've had a rotten day. I died and my stupid brother showed up and I'm miserable and the last thing I need is to be struck by lightning. .. "

"You just died today?" A look of pity overcame her face, and she descended to his eye level. "I'm sorry. Deaths are always hard. How did you go? Fall down the stairs?" A smirk escaped her. "I'm sorry. It really isn't funny."

"I was murdered," he replied tersely.

"Murdered!" Her dark eyes widened. "Oh! You're that one guy!"

Great. Now he was the one guy.

She nibbled at her nails, thinking. "I'm sorry, but when you're dead you don't pay all that much attention to the living. But we did hear about Voldemort and Harry Potter-he's so brave. You're that Weasel boy whom he killed."

"Ron Weasley," he corrected.

"Ron Weasley," she repeated, holding out her hand. "I'm most pleased to meet you, Mr. Weasley. I am Jillie Morgan."

Ron stared at her hand, then awkwardly shook it.

Jillie frowned. "You're supposed to kiss it. Later-century boys have no manners."

Ron's mum had forced upon all her sons the corrects ways to treat girls, but kissing hands had never been part of any propriety lesson.

"No matter," Jillie continued. "I really am sorry about the barrier. I wouldn't have done it if I had known you had just died." She broke into a grin. "But it's really quite spectacular. It's only ghost lightning, of course, and the living can't sense it. But it's still amazing what it does."

"Yeah, I can still feel it."

"That's normal. Well, you really shouldn't be staying up here." She grabbed his hand before Ron knew it, she had dragged him all the way back down to the common room, where Harry still slept. Instantly she let out a shriek! "Cornelia! What are you doing here?"

Oh, no, Ron thought. Another ghost.

"I came to talk to you," said Cornelia from her perch above an armchair. She was older than Jillie, about Ron's own age, with pale, shoulder-length hair that seemed--Ron coudln't be sure--rather singed at the ends. All of her clothes, from her pants and shirt to her hooded robe to even the satchel she carried around her shoulder, were lightly dusted in what looked suspiciously like ash. "Rebeccah had a meeting with the Bloody Baron, so she shoved me out of Ravenclaw."

"The Bloody Baron," Jillie sighed. "Ugh, I can't stand him."

An involuntary shiver ran down Ron's spine. The Bloody Baron was the ghost of Slytherin house, a gaunt and ragged man covered with bloodstains. Ron had seen little of him, but he seemed to represent everything that was so wrong with the Slytherins.

"But I'm being rude. Cornelia, meet Ron Weasel-I mean Weasley. Ron, meet Cornelia Constellation." Jillie snickered. "He wanted to go up to the Gryffindor girls' dormitories."

"Ooh!" Cornelia's silvery eyes lit up. "Did you let him go up?"

"Yes, it was a shocking experience," Ron muttered.

"Sorry I missed it. Most ghost boys don't try it so-"

Ron screamed as Cornelia suddenly erupted into ghostly blue flames.

"-it's kind of fun to watch those that don't know about the barriers. It wouldn't do at all for living girls having to worry about-" Cornelia plowed on through her speech as though nothing had happened. "Oh! I'm sorry!" The flames faded away, revealing Cornelia with a small smile.

Ron stared at her. "You were just on fire."

Jillie giggled.

"On fire," Cornelia said, nodding. "I rarely notice. I died of spontaneous combustion. During World War II. My family is Muggle, and I happened to be with them at the time in London. We thought we were safe in that cellar." She sighed. "Well, we were safe from the bombs. It really was completely spontaneous. So that's me. How did you die?"

"You-Know-Who," he replied. It suddenly seemed like an event that had happened years ago, or a dream. "Lord. . . Voldemort murdered me."

"Oh. . . that's terrible," she replied, a genuine sympathy on her face. "Rebeccah mentioned it. We actually had a celebration about it in the Ravenclaw Tower. About the Dark Lord's defeat, I mean. Not your death. Murder." She shook her head. "What an awful way to go."

"I was trampled by sheep," Jillie volunteered.

Ron couldn't help but laugh. "You were trampled by sheep?"

"Internal bleeding," she said defensively.

"Very painful," Cornelia agreed. "But, oh Ron! I wish I could have seen you at the barrier! But. . . but you just died tonight. Why sneak in there?

Ron gazed longingly at the stairs. "I have a friend. .. I had to check on her."

"Check on who?" asked a familiar voice.

"Percy," Jillie said icily. "Nice to see you again."

Percy appeared in the corner of the common room, where he glared at Ron. "I really don't care for haunting the school all that often, Miss Morgan. Looks like you wouldn't stay in the house, either, Ron."

"I thought I told you I didn't want you around," Ron spat. Was Percy everywhere? "Did you come to yell at me about sneaking into the girls' dormitories?"

"You were trying to do what?" Percy's face twisted into the familiar prefect rage. "You don't ever change, do you?"

"Neither do you."

"You two know each other?" Cornelia asked. "Oh, dear."

Ron barely heard her question. "Why are you following me?"

Percy sniffed and drifted out from the shadows, the faint light playing off his ghostly face. "Perhaps I should ask you why you feel the need to claim ownership of every place I happen to be in. I'm hardly following you. Perhaps I'm here to check up on someone else." He nodded at the chair where Harry still slept, oblivious to the chaotic chatter around him. "Oh, don't worry. He can't hear us. We're all presently 'invisible ghosts', as you call them."

"Percy, why are you always so awful?" Jillie asked.

Percy ignored her. "Perhaps I came to congratulate your Dark Lord-defeating best friend who couldn't even save your life-"

It wasn't Harry's fault Ron had died. Ron hadn't even considered the possibility, had never even feared the thought entering his mind. But the suggestion of it. . . Harry had been a hero that night, despite the disaster. . . To say Harry was anything less. . . All thoughts fled from Ron's mind as he rushed at Percy, not caring what damage he couldn't do to his brother. . .

"Ron!" Percy jerked back as Ron struck him in the chest, then pushed him back with sudden force. Percy had never been all that physically powerful, but Ron was surprised as he fell back, face throbbing.

"You lied," he said. "You said it didn't hurt."

"It's the memory of pain. It won't kill you." Percy took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "Ron, if you touch me again. . ."

"Shut up!" Ron leapt at Percy, knocking him into the ground and through it. They fell through the floor, feeling the splintery aura of the wood rush past them...

"Ron, get off!" Percy shouted, trying to release himself. "I thought we had settled this. . ."

"There's too much to settle," Ron hissed. He hit Percy again, wishing he could somehow draw comforting blood, assurance he was doing damage. "I don't care if I can't hurt you, I don't care!"

They hovered in the air above an empty classroom, desks neatly waiting below as the only audience to the fight.

"You're being stupid," Percy replied, twisting Ron's wrist as he pushed him away. "I don't have time for this, I don't care-"

"You don't care about anything!"

With a cry, Percy sent Ron spinning into the desks, then took the opportunity to shoot back up into the ceiling to the Gryffindor common room.

"I hate you!" Ron screamed, following Percy.

Jillie and Cornelia were still in the common room, watching with some fearful amusement. Ron took them as witnesses that he had done something.

"I don't want to do this," Percy said softly.

"I want to." Ron prepared for another strike.

"Stop!"

Ron's fist dropped to his side.

"No more of this!" the voice continued, a horrible, icy sound that seemed to shake the room.

Cornelia gave a small cry.

"The Bloody Baron," Percy murmured.

The Slytherin ghost stood in the last place any Slytherin should be-the Gryffindor common room, blank eyes staring at Ron and Percy. He had spoken. Ron realized that he had never before heard the Baron speak. Next to him stood another ghost, the Grey Lady, the ghost of Ravenclaw. She made a small curtsey, but her gaze was no less harsh than that of the Bloody Baron.

"You can't be in here," Percy said.

"Just because such excursions are rare doesn't mean we can't enter other houses," the Baron said.

"The House ghosts have obligations," the Grey Lady explained. "And one of those is to keep peace among the ghosts."

"A peace you two have not been keeping," the Baron said. He seemed to have no lips, only a gape in his face with teeth. The silvery blood was so... everywhere.

"We didn't mean-" Percy began.

"You're not even our house ghost!" Ron exclaimed. "Nearly-Headless Nick is for Gryiffindor, and he-"

"-is not around," the Baron interrupted. "Which means others can act in his place."

"You can't judge us!"

"I can," he said with a sneer. "I can do many things." He stepped forward, sending a cold vibration through the room. In his chair, Harry shivered in his sleep. "I've heard of your situation, and I must say I do not approve of it."

Ron was being judged by a Slytherin ghost. What else could go wrong? "You could hardly know our situation."

"But I do know of it!" The Baron and the Grey Lady exchanged smiles. "And I regret to say it will not fit in with the order that must be kept in this school. It's a place of the study of magical knowledge, not a war field."

Evidently the Bloody Baron had seen little of the students' going ons.

"As you may know, there are different levels of ghosts in this world. I happen to hold a respectable position."

The Grey Lady laughs. "Which means. . ."

"Which means I have power over many of the ghosts that haunt this school."

"What?" Percy exclaimed. "I don't haunt this school!"

"Neither do I!" Ron put in.

"It doesn't matter," the Baron said with a dark laugh. "You're in this school right now, and you'd be amazed to what geographical extensions that goes. You two have already given an example of what I and the rest of the House ghosts-including your precious Sir Nicholas-refuse to put up with. And, as punishment-" He waved his hand, and the spectral version of a wand appeared, long, slender, and wispy with smoke. "I bind you two together for the next hundred years."


	5. Dude! They weren't allowed to do that!

"Bound?" Ron echoed. What in the world did that mean? He flung his hand in Percy's direction, not even bothering to look at him. "To him?!"

Jillie swore under her breath and with a pitying nod to Ron she floated to a ceiling corner to hover like a silver cloud in the darkness. The room was left in apprehensive silence purified by the fact that Harry was the only one breathing.

The Grey Lady, with a patient shake of her head, glided forward, the edge of her dress just skimming the floor. Ron instinctively jerked back, somewhat alarmed that the ghost of a rival non-Gryffindor house would dare approach him while merely standing like a fool while the Bloody Baron declared. . . Ron didn't rightly know what had just happened. But the Grey Lady had done nothing. Now she came forward, her too-wise face as warm as anything his own mother could make. "I know it seems a harsh punishment. . ." She frowned, an obvious concealment of confusion. "Ron, is it? The one who was murdered.. yes. But it is only a mere century-they go by so fast when one is dead. We have seen cases like this before. They just conflict so with the order of the school. I'm afraid they never end well on themselves, either."

"A mere century? That's stupid!" shouted Ron. "And what exactly is this?"

"Shut up, you're making it worse." Percy spoke with such ferocity that Ron was forced to waste a glance. As he expected, Percy was staring at the Baron with evident awe and fear, the same slimy brown-nosing he bestowed upon everyone else with a bit of power. But there was something else just as recognizable: Percy was as furious as Ron.

"How much worse could it be?"

The Bloody Baron put his wand away with a snap, sliding it somewhere into the mess of rags he wore. "Shall I extend the sentence to an extra century, then?" There was no jest in his voice.

"Don't frighten them, Baron." With a tinkling laugh unsuited to her demeanor the Grey Lady floated back to her former place of ignorance behind the Baron. "Two centuries may be too much and may cause unwanted chaos. Which completely disregards the point."

The chill of the room strengthened as the Baron's bony face twisted into a sneer. "Fine, then," he said, rolling his bloodshot eyes. "One century, if it pleases Rebeccah so."

"And it does," she replied sincerely. "Thank-you."

"But I don't want to be bound to that. . ." Ron tried to think of a word that would fully express everything, but his mind went blank, "... git for a century!" He looked again to Percy, hoping for some sign of agreement.

Percy ignored Ron, seeming taking all his will to do so. "Baron, what does this exactly entail?"

Ron didn't even know what that word meant.

"Of course you'd want to know the details," the Baron replied, his sneer deepening with more sick joy free of the Grey Lady's restraints. No wonder he was the Slytherin ghost, Ron thought. "Look at your wrists."

"Wrist?" For a moment Ron stared at the Baron. Then, for lack of anything better to do, he pulled back the sleeves of his robe. Neatly tied around his right wrist was a measure of silvery, misty rope.

"What the-?" Percy tugged at the identical rope around his own wrist. "What is this?"

"Your bindings," the Baron said. "Don't even bother to try to remove them. These will keep you within fifty feet of each other at all times. Except. . ." He held up three pale, blood-covered fingers. "Each year, you can have three days apart of your own choosing. Take advantage of those."

"Why three days? There's no point to that."

The Baron drew a cold stare that could have ended the conversation on its own. "Because of reasons beyond my power. A break is necessary." He turned and faded through the wall, the Grey Lady behind him.

For a brief moment the common room seemed as it had been only minutes before, quiet and undisturbed by any thought-worthy pressures. Then Percy let out an irritated scream. "What were you thinking? Oh, no, you probably weren't thinking-you never do!"

"Me?" Ron yanked vainly at the rope. "What about you? You just stood there like he was your precious Minister or someone."

"As if you did anything but whine!"

Ron had no reply to that. "Well. . . you started the fight!"

Percy blinked. "I did. . . I did what?" His fingers clenched into a fist at his side. "You are the one who started it. You threw the first punch! How dare you say I started it!"

"You're the one who decided to come back." The rope wasn't coming off. Ron flicked at the tie ends and tried to imagine them as nooses.

"You. . " Percy bit his lip and slowly let his hands uncurl. "Well, it doesn't exactly matter whose fault it is now. It's an unfair judgment."

"It really is," Cornelia said softly. She slowly emerged from behind a couch, absentmindedly swinging her satchel. Ghostly ashes drifted from the cloth. "They had no right to do that to you."

"No right. . ." Percy met her eyes, and slowly horror registered in his face. "What do you mean?"

Cornelia sighed deeply. "I thought you knew. Like you told them, you don't even haunt this school. Neither of you do."

"I don't want to haunt anything," Ron muttered.

"You're a ghost now, get used to," Percy snapped before returning his attention to Cornelia. "So what are you saying?"

Her silver face darkened with a ghostly blush. "I thought you knew.. ."

"Knew what?"

"You don't know the rules?" Ron asked. To his surprise he felt somewhat betrayed. The one thing he could count on was that Percy would know the rules to everything.

"The Bloody Baron had no right to do that," Jillie announced, gliding down from the ceiling. "You were both Gryffindors in life, and the sorting of the houses keeps stronger ties than you might think. Around this school, only Nearly Headless Nick would have the power to do anything to you."

Ron stared at her, her words circling in his mind. "He didn't have the power. . ." He looked again at his wrist. The rope! It was just for show! "If he doesn't have the power, then he didn't do anything!" With a laugh he sped through the wall, into the corridor, and-

SNAP! The rope wrenched painfully into his wrist, jerking him to a stop. "Ow. . ." He rubbed the spot beneath the rope. What was the point of being dead if he could still feel pain. "It. . .it didn't work!"

Cornelia stuck her head through the wall, grinning sheepishly. "You didn't listen."

"But. . ." Confused, Ron returned to the common room. "But you told me the Bloody Baron didn't have the power to bind us."

Percy rubbed his own wrist and glared at Ron.

Jillie sighed as she moved to hover like a silver sheet above one of the couches, robe drifting like a shadow through the cushions. "It depends on how you define power. Just because he's not supposed to do something doesn't mean he can't."

The final glowing embers in the hearth died.

"But. . ." Percy's voice was strangely high. "But if I knew, I could have. . ."

"You could have stopped him." Jillie nodded.

"We thought you knew," Cornelia put in helpfully. "I was actually wondering why you were letting him get away with that."

He seemed to freeze, only his lips moving as he mumbled something silent. Then he swore. "I don't believe this!"

"Why didn't you tell me?" Ron asked Jillie and Cornelia. "You knew I had just died, that I wouldn't know the rules. I didn't know about the girls' dormitory!"

Cornelia blushed again, bursting into flames as she did so. "I didn't. . . I'm sorry, but the Grey Lady is the ghost of my house and-"

"And we're all scared of the Bloody Baron," Jillie finished, shuddering. "He's a monster."

"But still. . ." Ron pleaded. He felt silly doing so; it was clearly too late. "Where's Nearly Headless Nick? Maybe he could do something."

"That's right," said Percy, suddenly calmer. "He's a House Ghost. Our House Ghost."

Jillie shrugged. "I think he's trying to get into that Headless Hunters thing." She rolled her eyes. "Again. When will he learn they aren't going to accept him?"

"Well. .. when will he be back?"

Another shrug.

Ron grunted and tried to sit in one of the chairs. He still hovered a few inches into it. "So what are we supposed to do until then?"

"It is fifty feet," Cornelia mused as the last of the flames faded from her. "That's fairly long. You could even be in different rooms if you wanted."

"That's the best thing I've heard all night," he replied dryly. "Well, Percy, you've been stalking me. Finally happy?"

"I wasn't stalking you and no," Percy said, no emotion in his voice, nothing even directed to Ron. He stared at the empty hearth, face unreadable.

Ron studied him for a moment, then turned his gaze to the still-sleeping Harry. It wasn't fair. Yet all the anger he wanted to feel, knew he should be feeling, was gone, replaced by nearly overwhelming fatigue. He hadn't even fully recovered from walking through the walls back at the Burrow. . . He suddenly wanted to take Harry's cue and find a couch to curl up on. One that he didn't go through.

"We should probably leave," Cornelia said.

"Are you going back to Ravenclaw already?" Jillie asked, drifting from the chair.

Cornelia shook her head. "No, Rebeccah will be in one of her moods. I just don't feel comfortable being in here with. . . him." She nodded at Harry, still visible in the darkness. "I mean, he just defeated the Dark Lord! What else can he do?"

"He's sleeping, so we can't properly wait around to find out," Jillie said. "Let's go to the dungeons."

"I hate the dungeons," Ron said with a yawn.

"Not the classrooms, the real dungeons. They're still down there."

At any other time the idea would have been tempting. More than tempting. He would have loved to explore down there, Harry at his side and Hermione behind them imagining all the trouble they would be in. And of course he would be alive.

"I'd love to go," Percy announced.

The expression on Jillie's face made it clear that she did not want him coming. "Well. . . I'll be down there, for those of you who wish to join me." She disappeared.

Cornelia hovered in the air, watching them with mild interest. "There is more room to... kill each other down there." She too vaporated.

"More room to be further apart," Percy muttered. "Come on, Ron. You can worry about Harry later."

Ron stuck out his tongue. "I think I'll just stay here and sleep. You can see how far you can stretch this stupid binding."

Percy eyed him resentfully. "Ghosts don't sleep. Just come."

"No."

"I'm going anyway."

Ron gave a dry laugh. "Try it."

"Hmph." Percy disappeared, and Ron felt again the painful pull on his wrist as he was forced from the common room.

Lights. Stifled talking. An occasional laugh that was quickly hushed and the continuous pounding of feet as people darted in and out, apparently too afraid to remain in the room for very long. Harry groaned and tried to close his mind to all the noise. It was morning, he could tell. Maybe even later. Not that it mattered. If he were allowed to, he felt he could just lie down and sleep forever until he could forget what had happened. Yet he knew he wouldn't be able to.

The flash of green through the dark cemetery. . . Ron! No. He clenched his teeth and tried to keep back the warm tears he felt welling up behind his closed eyelids. He had promised himself he wouldn't think about it.

And of course there was nothing to think about. Things that awful, they could only be dreams, awful nightmares that came from nowhere.

But it wasn't a nightmare. No amount of talk could change that fact, what he knew. He sucked in painful air and forced himself to sit up and look around. The common room stared back at him, fire burning in the hearth, undeservingly cheerful. He hated it.

He still felt so tired, but he was awake, in that painful and groggy way. Awake when he didn't want to be. Alive when he didn't want to be. Perhaps he could make himself go back to sleep... He leaned back against the soft cushions of the chair, the faded visions of a dream slowly coursing into his mind.... he couldn't really remember it. Something to do with Ron, probably. And it had been weird-that was the most distinct impression, oddly enough. Part of him clung to the memory, demanding to remember more.

"Good morning, Harry," said a soft voice.

Harry managed to look up. Hermione stood before him, hair a little too brushed and deep circles carved under her red eyes. She looked as miserable as he felt. "I'd hardly call it a good morning," he retorted.

His words took her back. "I know. . . oh, Harry, I do know that!" She began to tremble as tears spilled from her eyes, and she clamped her hands over her face.

He had done it again. Cursing himself, he rose to his feet and awkwardly put his arms around her. She immediately buried her face in his shoulder. "Hermione, I didn't mean that. I'm sorry."

She gulped back a sob and shook her head, further rubbing tears into Harry's cloak. Her hair scratched at his face. "No, it's not your fault. I feel so stupid. I was up all night-we all were in my dorm room- because I couldn't sleep and I had to do my homework."

Of course Hermione would attempt to lose herself in schoolwork, Harry thought with dim empathy.

"And then Parvati scared me because she said she sensed something just outside our door-you know how she still pretends to be psychic... and ... oh, Harry, I really miss him! I should have made him stay here..."

Harry shook his head, suddenly angry at Hermione for having to remind him. But he had already upset her enough...Ron had been her friend as well. "No, it was my fault. I told him to leave, and that's when.. . ."

"No!" Hermione pushed herself away, face red. "Don't you dare say that! I won't hear it! It wasn't anyone's fault!"

"Hermione.. . ." She didn't understand. She couldn't. It was his fault. All his fault his best friend was dead.

"No!" She took a deep breath, stabling her just as her legs shook beneath her. Harry grabbed her arm. She wiped her eyes on her sleeve. "I'm just so tired. . ."

And all Harry had been able to do was sleep. "What time is it?"

She gave a small shrug. "I don't know. What does it matter?"

"Then I think I'll just go back to sleep."

"Please, not in the common room again. Harry!" She jerked her arm away as he fell back against the chair.

He hadn't meant to. He cringed and gasped for breath. "I guess I'm really tired."

"Harry. . ." Hermione frowned, her recognizable worry clear. "When was the last time you ate?"

Ate? Who cared about eating? He could barely remember. "The night before last, I think."

She brushed a curl from her eyes and sighed. "Come get something to eat with me. You can't just let yourself starve."

"I don't want to eat anything," he muttered. But he still let Hermione drag him from the room. He wasn't feeling up to arguing with anyone.

It was strange, entering the Great Hall. It felt like a mausoleum, eerily quiet with only a few late breakfasters who barely dared look at Hermione and Harry before returning too eagerly to their meals.

What would they do if he stared at the? He limply let Hermione shove him into a chair.

"They're supposed to be celebrating," Hermione hissed. "Voldemort's gone. And they didn't even know Ron...." The slice of toast she had been grabbing for Harry's plate dropped to the table as more tears came. "Sorry."

No one reached for the toast. It didn't matter; Hermione had force-filled Harry's plate with more than it could hold, and he didn't plan on touching any of it. In utter hypocrisy she had taken nothing for herself. Harry stared at the food. Ron would have probably eaten it, regardless of anything. But Ron wasn't there.

Hermione sniffed and touched Harry's arm. "There's Ginny."

Ginny sat further down the table from them, her red hair unnaturally bright in the dim room where rain still fell at the enchanted ceiling. She had no food, not even a plate, and stared only at the table before her. Luna Lovegood sat next to her, talking quietly as she stroked her hand. Ginny didn't appear to notice. After a few minutes, Luna stood and left.

"Ginny!" Hermione called, nudging Harry with her elbow. "Say something to her."

Like what? I'm sorry I killed your brother? He forced a smile, knowing it to be nothing more than a weird, fake twist of his mouth.

Ginny ignored them.

"She just can't sit there alone," Hermione murmured. "Come on." Taking her empty plate and Harry's full one, she slid down the table to where Ginny sat.

Ginny took one look at them, stood, and ran from the Great Hall.

Shout Outs!

Awkward: I know what you mean about that scene, and I think I will rewrite it. But I sort of do need the Grey Lady just kind of... standing there unnecessarily for something I'm plotting.

Crystal Lightning: Yes, 100 years. Sucks to be them. Anywho... WHEN ARE YOU UPDATING YOUR STUFF?!?!

Hydraspit: Oh, it will be very interesting!

Jamie McFly: I already told you how he died, and he'd rather not discuss it. When I'll put it in the story...I don't know. Just consider yourself luck that you are privy to the mode of death. And I'll try and get more humor in here.

Krina: They can leave. I'll explain later.

LJ Fan: Thanks! It was kind of a hard barrier to break. The Bloody Baron and Grey Lady will hopefully have better characterizations in the future... but I'm glad you like them now.

Nkittyhawk: Glad I could ruin your Chinese food for you (mm.. Chinese....) I'll have her giggle less. She doesn't strike me as a way giggly character-just one who does it somewhat. So she'll lessen.

Redrose2310: Thanks for reading!

Tap Dancing Widow: Yeah, I couldn't do a ghost story without the Bloody Baron. Plus, I've big plans for him. joins in maniacal laughter

Written in Stars: Ron is not an idiot! How dare you call him an idiot! releases the evil annoying mole thing Don't worry about the funeral scene, it will be okay.


	6. The Truth of the Spider Incident and Oth...

The non-classroom dungeons, Ron quickly decided, were no more interesting than Snape's potion classroom. The murky, dilapidated chambers carving their twisted ways beneath the castle, standing only because of probable magic, strewn with the remains of what looked suspiciously like human skeletons strapped with old chains now the dried blood color of rust, the chance of old passages even the Marauder's Map knew nothing of. . . Ron simply didn't care. Perhaps, under happier circumstances, he would have gladly welcomed the adventure, but it was difficult to care much about anything so soon after death.

The company might have been better, as well. Ron hovered in the furthest corner of the dungeon room, as close to the mildew-stained walls as he dared-he could still feel the cold vapor flowing from them. This dungeon was considerably small and cramped, a far cry from the bottomless pits he had always imagined-and had actually seen that night throughout Hogwarts-for torture chambers. The girls had insisted, after a too-lengthy tour of the dungeons, upon the little rom, its uneven bottom flooded and filled with water and who knew what else, for its privacy. Indeed, the door had long fallen in on itself and was now impassible for entrance by mortals. If only Ron could somehow kick Percy out. Percy was at the farthest possible distance from Ron the room would allow-which was sadly somewhat less than fifty feet. Cornelia and Jillie placed themselves somewhere between, talking and occasionally throwing glances at Ron and Percy. Being that the stilted conversation Ron had barely participated in anyway was long dead, this was an activity that had gone on for hours. At least Ron guessed in hours. Time seemed immeasurable. Whether that was attributed to the nature of being a ghost or simply the fact that Ron hadn't slept all night, he didn't care. He did wish ghosts slept-his head was already spinning.

Percy watched him pointedly from across the room. "It's hard at first, but you'll adjust."

Ron rubbed his eyes, glowering. "You don't need to worry about me."

"I'm not."

"I'm afraid I still don't understand what is going on between you," Jillie said, voicing a question that had obviously been on her mind all night. "I mean, if you don't want to discuss it, of course that's perfectly all right, but. . . I can see you are brothers. . ." Her voice trailed off as a sad smile came over her face.

"We're not brothers," Ron said thoughtlessly. His voice was louder than he intended in the small chamber.

Cornelia blinked, confused, and twisted at the straps of her satchel. "But I thought since you had the same last name. . ."

Jillie rolled her eyes.

"Of course we are brothers," Percy said. "My youngest brother is just being a moron."

Cornelia was visibly relieved. "I was worried there for a moment. You know, you two look awfully alike."

Ron's head snapped up to glare across the dark room at Cornelia. "We do not!" He spoke at the same time Percy shouted the same retort. Ron turned his glare at Percy. They didn't look so much alike, did they? At least, not like Fred and George. "Percy wears those bloody glasses," he finally muttered.

Jillie and Cornelia exchanged grins.

What an obnoxious pair, Ron thought. At least Cornelia had the excuse of being a Ravenclaw ghost. He leaned closer into to the wall, half-wondering what his fear of it was. As if he could truly feel the disgusting mildew and moss. What would happen if he simply fell back through it? Was stone more interesting than wood?

Percy frowned and stroked the frame of his glasses. "I think these dungeons in this section were originally built in the 13thcentury.... a very difficult time for the school, according to ', a History'."

He should have seen a snotty Percy fact coming. With a groan Ron punched through the stone, the rock clinging at his hand like vapor. "You read that stupid book, too?"

"I might have," came the icy reply. "A lot of people have. A lot of people read and like to learn. Hermione Granger was always going on about it, anyway."

Hermione. A perfect excuse to have another go at Percy. But he instead turned to the corner as a fresh wave of sadness washed over him. "At least she was nice!"

He felt Percy staring at him in bewilderment. "What?"

Ron studied the web of water-broken cracks crawling like spider webs through the stone. He hadn't been trying to make any particular point. "Never mind."

"You realize, of course," Jillie said brightly. "That if you are to be chained like this for the next century, you had better learn some communication skills."

What was it with girls and communication?

Percy faced the girls, now hovering just above the murky water. His earlier rigid acquaintanceship with them faded in its strength. "Thanks for letting us join you, but it's probably best we don't continue this conversation." His voice was much too appropriate for the dungeon room.

Jillie returned his haze, her freckled face expressionless but her lips at the point of moving to speak. But then she only shrugged. "I suppose some mysteries will have to wait." She calmly floated through the wall.

Cornelia smiled shyly, adjusted her hood, and disappeared.

The room had given no light earlier, providing ample opportunity for Ron to exercise his newly discovered heightened vision, but that was small comfort against the black mist rising from the water that seemed to intensify with the girls' departure. Instinctively Ron curled up, unwilling to rally the obstinate knowledge that there was absolutely nothing in the dark, broken-down dungeon to harm him; he was too miserable to care.

"They're not all bad," Percy commented from his side of the dungeon, words echoing off the stone. 

Ron concerned himself more with the debate of what was actually making noise now that the vocal cords were one rather than what Percy was saying.

"I've only met them a few times," Percy continued, voice flat with the painful attempt at conversation. "The first time I returned to Hogwarts after I died, they met me and wouldn't leave me alone."

Some kind of insect crawled up the wall and into a crack. 

"I don't really come to Hogwarts all that often."

"Do I look like I care?" Ron heard himself scream. "I don't care about your lack of ghost friends, I don't care about Jillie's communication demands-"

"She has a point," Percy said with an impatient sigh. "It's your fault we are stuck like this, and we probably can't get out of it, so deal with it."

"I don't want to. I just want you to be quiet." He was depressed, lonely, more tired than he had ever been before, and Percy just had to be near him.

"I'm not the one who started those fights, despite your logic."

For a long time neither spoke. Ron watched another bug and the barely visible outline of the slow moving water.

Then came Jillie's now-familiar voice ringing clearly from somewhere outside the dungeon. "Oh, hello, Sir Nicholas!"

Ron lost his unstable position in the air and spun dizzily down into the water. His eyes shot open. The water was indeed disgusting, filled with mud, bits of broken mortar, and an array of water-spiders swimming delicately toward him. With a scream he pulled himself out. The water beneath him showed no ripples, no sign he had just plunged through it. No sign of the hideous spiders beneath the surface. Spiders. How he still hated them.

"You're not going to drown," Percy said.

Ron realized he was still shaking. "I'm not afraid of drowning. There were. . ." If that wasn't the stupidest thing he had ever been about to say. He wasn't about to confess to Percy what was still his greatest fear.

"Spiders?" Ron couldn't be sure, but something close to a smile appeared on Percy's face. "Don't tell me you're still afraid of spiders. That teddy bear thing happened years ago."

"I'm not afraid of spiders!" Even as he spoke he could feel that hairy thing wriggling in his arms. . . He suddenly knew Percy could see it as well. If only he could just go over there and crush that mocking face. . .

Percy didn't allow him the chance. "Sir Nicholas is here," he said. "Stop fooling around and let's go."

Nearly Headless Nick. The reason Ron had been so started in the first place. "He had better be able to help us." He glanced one more at the spider-filled water and followed Percy towards the outer wall.

"By the way," Percy said. "Fred wasn't the one that did that to your bear."

Had it been George? Perhaps Ron's memory and the family stories were off.... But Percy wouldn't be bringing that up. Unless. . . "It was you?!"

"It was me." There was a note of pride in his voice. "You colored in one of my books. Fred thought it was funny so he took the blame for the spider."

"You turned my bear into a giant spider?" 

"Yes."

"But all those years. . .You git!"

"Ron, it happened years ago." 

"You're the one that brought it up!"

Percy sighed, regretting he had said anything. "Let's just go see Nick.. . ."

Barely were the words out his mouth than Nearly Headless Nick blasted into the dungeon room in a blaze of white vapor, head balanced precariously on his partially severed neck, face firm. Ron and Percy tumbled out of his path. He whirled at them again, his eyes ablaze with fury. Ron had never seen the ghost so angry.

"Sir Nick," Percy managed to sputter. "We need-"

"Miss Morgan has told me an interesting story!" Nick shouted. "A very interesting story."

Ron glanced at Percy. Were they being blamed for something? "Nick, we. . ."  
  
"I wasn't even aware either of you were dead!" Nick's head flipped partially off, dangling at his shoulder until he furiously readjusted it. "Both Gryffindors. . ." He sighed, a vain attempt to shake away some of his anger. "I could have been told! And now you're both in this huge mess. . ."

"With the Baron." Percy nodded, surprisingly calm. "Jillie must have told you."

"Oh, she told me! I was already in a bad mood concerning the Headless Hunt, yet I have to come back to this disaster! The two of you, both prefects, Percy Head Boy, fighting like pixies. . .No wonder the Grey Lady and the Baron did what they did."

It wasn't his fault, Ron thought defensively. It was all Percy's. "The Grey Lady just stood there."

Nick's rage was suddenly on him. "The Grey Lady never just stands there! I don't know what you did to insult her, but. . . the Baron. . ."

"We were told he had no right to bind us," Percy said, showing his wrist to Nick. "Because he isn't our house ghost. But you are. . ."

"Of course he has no right!" Nick cut in. "The laws are specific on that. Being a House Ghost entitles more than a mascot position-we have duties! We have authority over the other ghosts in our houses. No one is to mess with another house's ghosts!"

So it was true. Excitement rushed through Ron. "So what the Baron did was illegal! You can fix it!"

"Fix it?" Nick sniffed. "Fix it? Oh, I'm afraid it's far too late for that."

Percy and Ron stared at Nick.

"It's too late?" Percy echoed. "But... but it wasn't in his power in the first place!"

"Those ropes won't be coming off," Nick said sadly. "The Baron placed them there, and I have no power to take them off. Besides, the Bloody Baron has. . . other forms of authority."

"You could at least speak to him!"

"Speak to the Baron?" Nick seemed appalled at the idea. "No one just approached the Baron for a converstaion!"

"But-"

"I will not be incurring his wrath!"

"You're not going to help us!" Ron shrieked. "You're the Gryffindor Ghost! You're supposed to help us!"

Nick shook his head. "I'll see what I can do. But it's you that made them mad. And I wasn't even aware that either of you were dead. Though I did hear something. . ." He gazed curiously at Ron.

"I helped defeat You-Know-Who," Ron muttered. He didn't want to discuss it. "I happened to get killed in the process."

Nick looked a little sad. "I'm sorry to hear that, Mr. Weasley. But. . oh, it really is something to rejoice about. Not your death, but You-Know-Who's defeat. What about you, Percy?"

Ron turned to his brother, rather hesitant. He hadn't bothered to ask Percy how he had died. 

Percy's face was impassible. "It happened almost a year ago. I'd rather not discuss it."

"It's probably something stupid," Ron mumbled under his breath, but loud enough for Percy to hear. Yet he couldn't help but feel a sense of curiosity. "Why are we even discussing this?" he asked louder. "Nick, why aren't you going to help us?"

"I already told you; I can't," Nick said, some of the former fury returning. "We can't have violent ghosts in this school anyway-"

"But we weren't haunting the school!"

"And you don't have to. Leave, if you feel so inclined. But that binding will still be in place."

Ron fought a sudden urge to remove the rest of Nick's head. 

"There is one thing, though," Nick mused. "There are people in the spirit world who might be able to help. There's a council there that oversee the activities of ghosts in this world. I hear they even have representatives that haunt out here. If you could find one of those members. . . they might be able to help."

"We can go to the spirit world?" Percy asked quickly.

"Yes, you can visit," Nick replied. "I've never actually gone myself, but. . .yes, you can go. I'm not making any promises, but the council is very powerful. That's all the help I can give you."

"That's it?" Ron asked.

Nick glared. "Try not to make matters worse, Ronald."

Percy shot Ron a withering glance. "Thank-you, Sir Nicholas." 

"You're most welcome." Nick seemed exasperated. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I'll be picking up matters with other folk. . ." He faded through the wall.

"He was a lot of help," Ron said dryly.

"He actually gave us a lot of advice, if you were paying attention," Percy snapped. "If we do find this council, try not to bother them. I'm going back to the tower to think about this. Are you coming?"

As if he had a choice. Percy had more power over the binding than he did. "Whatever. So, how did you die?"

"It's none of your business."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shouts Outs

Tap Dancing Widow: Yeah, poor Ginny is blaming Harry. Poor girl. She isn't thinking clearly.

Hydrangea: You'll see. *giggle*

Icy Dragon Claws: No prob about reading your stories. I quite enjoyed them, and you should update them. Yes, bad Bloody Baron. *smacks him* There is a council, as was mentioned. I guess it's kind of a ghost court.

Libby Bird: Thanks for reading! Ron will be able to be seen-I just thought that it would logically take a few days. Or else you'd see ghosts every time someone died... yeah. =)

hydraspit: I hope to get more Percy in. I have a Percy obsession, so. . . Yeah, I told someone how Percy died. Jamie McFly is actually my sister, and I'm not at school at the moment, so those things happen when you're in the same house hold.

Jamie McFly: Thank-you for your review. As I'm typing this... it's... *checks* 11:06, so I'll be at your school in about 2 hours! Yay! That comment will probably be pointless by the time you read this, but oh well. 

Written in Stars: What's wrong with being mean to Percy? *throws pan at Percy's head* Ooh! Charity (the one who was in the car with me while I was on the phone with you) thinks Earth Star sounds sexy, but not as sexy as Fur Foot.

Crystal Lightning: Hmm... your comment about the girls just gave me an idea... Thank-you! I'll be sure to credit you as my inspiration! And when are you going to update your stories? *pouts*

awkward: There will be many ghosts. Hmmm... I"m losing my Ron sense. Must.. .keep... Ron... annoyingly... Ron....


	7. Pillow Talk

Disclaimer:  This was written at 2:30 AM on insomnia-induced boredom and French vanilla ice cream. So it's not my fault if it sucks.

"You can't keep me here forever." It was a threat in words only, empty of all real power in denial that Percy could do whatever he wanted—but it was still a threat and that was good enough for Ron.  The taste of a few bitter comments on his tongue was priceless. Percy would never seriously believe the promise, not consciously, but it would eat away at him in its repeated annoyance until he cracked.  A tactic discovered by Fred and George earlier in their lives and eventually passed on to Ron, one that proved nearly infallible.  Only, he couldn't be sure he was doing it correctly.  What was the correct tone of voice?  The rhythm?  He awaited the deciding reaction from Percy, hoping he had inflicted something other than the pathetic arrogance of a spoiled child.

            Percy sat cross-legged on the floor near the now-roaring fire, amazingly balancing himself wit the correct level of the floor, a far distance from Ron's hide-out in the ceiling corner. His eyes were closed in concentration, and he muttered to himself, all part of a weird habit he had, his position of deep thought.  Ron just thought it annoying.  What kind of idiot sat around talking to himself?

            "I know you're ignoring me," he said. "Just to let you know, I can talk on and on and on.  I'm really good at it."

            Still no response.

            "Bloody hell," he murmured.  "Percy, I just swore! You're supposed to tell me off!"

            Nothing.  Ron swore again.  Was he really that bad?  Fred and George would have had Percy screaming after them in an instant.  With a sigh he turned his attention on the rest of the common room.  

            It was far too crowded for his taste.  Why was no one in class?  Older students sat in the armchairs, talking or perhaps playing some game or another, while many of the younger students chased each other around, shouting.  Obnoxious little first-year midgets.  Dean, Neville, and Seamus sat together, quietly talking.  Was it about him?  He found himself hoping so.  As long as they didn't start crying.  Hermione and Harry were nowhere to be seen.

            The portrait hole swung open in a single blast, and in came a blur of red hair racing through the room, barreling into a group of first years and darting past them and up the stairs to the girls' dorms without an apology.

            Ron stared after the girl, mind blank.  Ginny, came the hesitant realization.  And she was upset.  His big-brother instincts kicked in, and he sped down.  What had happened?

            He reached the landing just as the sixth-year girls' door slammed shut.  "Ginny," he shouted.  He moved toward the door.

            He had forgotten about the barrier.

            He ripped himself away from the electric surge, cursing.  How could he have been so stupid?  Good thing that Jillie wasn't around to mock him.  He slunk back to the common room, static still coursing through him.         

            Neville and Seamus still watched the stairs—Dean made an obvious attempt to ignore Ginny.  Why hadn't any of them attempted to comfort her? Dean had dated her, for crying out loud.

            Ron pushed down his hair and made his way toward the fireplace.  "Percy—"

            "What?!"  Percy sprang to his feet, eyes blazing and the crackling flames visible through him.  "Now what?!  What insufferable comment do you have to make now?"

            Ron jumped back. "Are you still on that?"

            "I'm trying to think and all you can to is hang up there and whine.  So what?  Just say your last thought and shut up!"

            It was interesting to watch Percy's silver features flush in rage, the same rage Ron had been trying to ignite.  If only Fred and George were around to witness.  "I was just going to mention Ginny."

            "Ginny?  Have you been bothering her, too?"  Percy turned his gaze past Ron, evidently searching the room for Ginny.

            "She just ran upstairs crying, which you would have known if you had been paying attention."

            "I was trying to ignore you."

            Ron stared at him in wonder.  "Just forget it," he finally said.  "You don't even care."

            "Of course I care," Percy replied haughtily.  "I'm her brother."

            "You sure don't act like it."

            His face paled, leaving his eyes as contrasting dark slits, a visage too much like the stereotypical ghost.  "I don't have to act like you do."  His voice softened into inauspicious.

            Ron refused to be put off.  "Then how do you act?"

            Percy studied him, eyes loosing their intensity, before throwing up his hands with an irritated sigh.  "I can't even remember where this conversation came from.  Why do you even care?"

            "Ginny," Ron repeated.

            "Ginny."  The name seemed foreign from Percy's mouth.  "So she's upset,.  And you can't figure out why.  You just died.  Does it amaze you so much she's grieving a little?"

            "Of all the—"  Ron bit his tongue against the all the things he suddenly couldn't remember to say.  "Like I said, forget it.  You have to clue. You haven't seen Ginny in two years."  He turned.

            "What makes you so certain?"  Percy asked, barely audible.

            Another almost-threat.  The question battered itself like a fly against Ron's mind, but he didn't have the patience to consider it.  So he batted it away.  "Because you suck." It was more than worth it to watch Percy's fury return.  No wonder Fred and George had enjoyed teasing him so much.  

            He returned to his corner, mood much improved and surveyed the common room with some remote satisfaction.  The first years had resumed their chaotic brawling and Dean, Neville, and Seamus had returned to their conversation.  He considered eavesdropping, an idea that was quickly forgotten when the portrait opened again.

            It was Hermione and Harry.

            One huge Silencing Charm might as well have been cast over the room.  Neville nearly slipped from his chair and one of the first years skidded into his friend, sending them both sprawling.  Even Percy looked up from his thoughts, mouth slightly open in an expression Ron couldn't think to recognize.  As it was, he only wasted a mere glance on Percy; Hermione and Harry were much more important.

            Harry still hadn't changed from the prior night.  Crusted dirt and blood clung to his tattered clothing, several decent scratches patterned themselves across his face, and his hair was at once both matted and disheveled.  Disgusting.  Couldn't he break from his misery long enough o take a shower?

            Hermione had made an attempt to look her best.  She had never looked prettier, Ron thought suddenly.  If only she were smiling.

            Yet, despite everything else, it seemed so natural that Hermione and Harry would walk into the Gryffindor common room.  So natural a thing that the tense berth like an iron claw raking a path for them through the students was a mirage with no power over the idea.  It was a dream. Just one terrible dream that would easily be over. . .

            "Harry!" he heard himself call. "Hermione!"  He didn't expect anything, but the names had slipped out.

            "They can't hear you."  Percy, of course.

            "Shut up, I know that."

            "Then why are you talking to them?"

            Percy actually expected Ron to respond. All his talk of not speaking—the hypocrisy was too much.  Ron stuck out his tongue and joined Harry and Hermione in the corner.

            ". . . I guess she just ran up here," Hermione was saying.  "She's probably in her dorm." She sighed and flicked a curl from her face. "Maybe I should go up and talk to her, the poor girl."

            "Maybe she'd rather be alone," Harry replied.  He was not watching Hermione—his gaze drifted out beyond her, seeing nothing.

            Ron half-wondered if Harry could see him standing there. Hesitantly, he drew back. The awkwardness of the situation was clear to him, but he couldn't deny the devious pleasure of listening in.

            "Perhaps you're right," Hermione mused.  "But even so, I don't think she should."

            "She didn't want to talk to us. Or Luna."

            "Harry—"

            "Maybe she just doesn't want to talk to me."

            A growl escaped Hermione's throat as she tore a pillow from the chair and squeezed the soft material between her fists.  "Harry, don't you dare say that!  Ginny doesn't hate you, and she doesn't think you killed Ron."

            Ginny thought Harry killed him? Ron thought, shocked.

            Harry didn't so much as flinch under Hermione's display.  "How do you know?  Have you spoke with her recently? Had a little heart-to-heart?"

            The pillow didn't seem likely to survive her until she threw it safely at Harry.  With all the instinct of Quidditch he put up his arm, ricocheting the pillow at Ron, who screamed as it sailed right through his stomach.

            "Don't talk like that." Her voice dropped to a hiss, smooth and painful.  "Don't you dare talk like that. I know you're grieving, but let me tell you that a lot of other people are grieving as well.  Ginny heard what happened, she knows it to be true.  So stop acting like the world is against you."

            Harry sunk deeper into his chair, glowering.

            "You are being rather whiney," Ron muttered.

            For a long time neither spoke. Then Hermione wiped her eyes on her sleeve. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

            "It's okay," he said.  "You're probably right."

            She forced a smile and wiped her eyes again.  "But I don't think she could hate you after all these y ears she had that crush on you.  Sorry.  This isn't the right time."

            Harry only shrugged.

            Ron almost laughed.  So his sister still harbored feeling for his best friend.

            "I think it might have been better if she had gone home last night with her parents," Hermione continued in her effort to keep the conversation alive.

            "They invited us, and we didn't go."

            "Yes, but Ginny is Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's blood daughter.  Harry, if you just made her talk with you. . "

            Why didn't Harry?

            "Later," he replied, forced effort in making himself believable.

            She shook her head and grabbed another pillow, but didn't press him further.  "I received a letter from them this morning.  The funeral will be the day after tomorrow." Her voice twisted in the end, and she quickly buried her face in the pillow.  "Harry, I can't believe this."

            What funeral? Ron thought wildly.  The thought of the spider-filled dirt suddenly returned.

            The remotest semblance of sympathy spread over Harry's face.  "Hermione," he leaned over and patter her arm.  "It'll be all right."

            She sniffed. "Thanks." Only a pause separated her next phrase. "No, it won't!  How can you be so stupid as to think that?!"

            Harry stumbled back, shocked.  "I thought. . ."

            "You're so unbelievable."

            "I didn't mean—"  Panic was setting in.  Clearly he hadn't expected that.  "Um. . . I'll just go take a shower now."

            She nodded, forcing back tears.  "I think I'll go get my homework." She rose to her feet, tossing the pillow through Ron, and hurried up the girls' stairs.

            Harry and Ron watched her for a moment, and then Harry left, inducing another short of era of silence before sporadic, nervous talking returned.

            "You will be attending your own funeral, won't you?"  

            Ron screamed and whirled around.  "Percy!"

            Percy had left the hearth and, judging from the secretive smile he wore, had heard the end of Harry and Hermione's conversation.  "Well, are you?"

            "Did you attend yours?"

            A pause.  "I really didn't have one to attend."

            Ron gave a short laugh.  "Good for you.  So the wonderful and pompous Percy didn't have the glorious send-off he deserved.  I'm sorry your precious Minister failed to come."

            "Ron—"

            "No, I won't be going to my funeral.  It's morbid.  I hate funerals."

            Percy's mouth twisted upwards in a small smile.  "Ron, it's rude to not attend an event in your honor."

            He made it sound like a banquet.  "That's exactly why I'm not going."  Percy wouldn't understand.  He hadn't seen it, everyone crying, his parents.  Hermione and Harry were bad enough.

            Percy moved to speak, certainly something nasty, but then seemed to change his mind.  "Fine.  I'll go."

            "You can't—"  Percy was suggesting a nightmare.  All these people that Ron cared about—then Percy, not shedding a single tear.  "But. . . but I'd have to come along, too."

            "That's the idea.  Think.  We're given three days apart a year.  I'll just take one of those days for the funeral."

            "You'll be gone." Percy gone so soon for a whole day. 

            He gave a smug grin and kicked at one of the thrown pillows.  "Unless you'd rather join me that day, of course."

            "No," Ron replied quickly.

            For the first time, something was going to go right.

SHOUT-OUTS!

To everyone who wonders about Percy's death: I'll tell you eventually, but I got the idea from "Angels Don't Knock" by Dan Yates…. So if you wanna read that, it might give you a clue.

Awkward:  Hmm…. I was kind of doing Nick on the fact that he does get irritated in the books and I wondered how far I could push him. Thanks for that analysis, though.

Crystal Lightenign: Yay!  patiently awaits stories

Db:  You wanna see them have it out?  Hmm…. That might be fun!

Duj:  Thanks!  

HiddenFlame42:  Thanks for all the reviews!  Let's see…. Jamie McFly is actually my sister….  And I'm glad you're not surprised it was Percy who did the spider thing (I really wouldn't put it past him.)  

Hydraspit:  Oh…. Fanfiction is terribly hard to write.  curses it  Can be quite hard to get all the info out there. I  wanna read a fic by you!

Icy Dragon Claws:  Nick is kinda fun to write.  And Percy rocks!  

Jamie McFly (on my account!)  Yeah, it was a good movie!  All my roomies want to see it!

LJ Fan: Oh… I hope you've recovered from your cold by now. Thanks for your comments!

Written in Stars: Wow… you have their availability all ready… of course he's smitten with me!


	8. Separated!

Sorry for the delay!  University is evil.  Grr.  They make me work. On the bright side, my childrens' lit professor spent twenty minutes today going over J. K. Rowling's website.  (www.jkrowling.com)

One day.  Twenty-four incredible hours, what promised to be the most enjoyable ones since Ron had died.   Perhaps something of heaven, at least a break from hell, had been granted to him. If only here weren't so tired.  Well, despite that, he was prepared to have the best day he could possible have without a body.

            There was only one problem: Neither he nor Percy had any idea how to undo the binding.

            "This is supposed to be your area of expertise!" Ron grumbled as he tore at the stiff rope which lit itself mockingly with the faint light of the midnight common room.  The rope refused to budge from its magical knot no matter what he did.  Any other rope would slide effortlessly through him, but the stupid spectral thing simply clung on as if it were a part of him.  Which, when he paused to consider the idea, it was.

            "And you have no area of expertise," Percy replied, making no effort to hide the mimic.

            Ron sniffed.  What was that supposed to mean?  Just because he hadn't read every moronic rule book every written....  "You're the one who wants to go to my funeral so badly, so you had better figure it out."

            "And you're the one that wants to get rid of me.  Why don't you–" He uttered a few choice swear words as the knot he had been so deftly picking at snapped snake-like back at him.

            Ron blinked.  He had never heard Percy swear before.  "I thought you couldn't feel pain."  It was so satisfying to witness any sign of weakness.

            Percy glared at him, but the injured hand dropped to his side.  "Why don't you go bother the Bloody Baron or something, get him to help us?"

            "I thought it was your job to kiss up authority."  Ron gazed up the stairs to the boys' dormitories, half-expecting, half-wanting footsteps to soon echo with an approaching spy.  The common room was far too uncomfortable with only he and Percy.  It was wrong.  The cozy room wasn't supposed to feel that way. Lonely.  Empty.  Boring.  He'd even prefer the panic of the other night.

            Percy returned to picking at the rope for a moment, then yanked his hand away in sudden fury.

            "I don't think that's going to work," Ron said.

            "Which is why I stopped."

            Of course he had.  And Ron had just proved himself an idiot in Percy's eyes.  His sleepiness had channeled itself into a steady push of energy, albeit one that left his mind still clouded and reeling.  Good thing he didn't really care what Percy thought.

            "You're doing it, too," Percy continued.

            Ron looked down to find his own fingers tugging vainly at the rope.  He quickly stopped.

            Percy gave a small laugh, strangely loud in the room.

            "Shut up.  You're the one who won't be attending my funeral."

            Percy studied him until Ron jerked his own gaze away, silently daring him to re-attempt the eye contact.

            "Don't stare at me. It's weird."

            "It's weird to be so possessive of a funeral you're not even attending.  "My funeral", you say?  Come one."

            Ron flung himself onto a chair. "It's my body."  He wouldn't be tricked into going. He wouldn't.

            "Your body. How impressive.  Such power in that old adage.  It's a decaying object they're just going to throw into the ground."

            If only he could pick up one of the pillows and chuck it right through Percy's stupid head.

            "Maybe they'll just cremate you instead."

            Ron shuddered involuntarily.  Cremation would be almost worse than the spiders.  His body thrown into a kiln like a piece of pottery.... "Just because you didn't have a funeral doesn't give you the right to get so excited about mine."

            "But yours could be so interesting."

            Percy was interesting.  Interesting in a twisted definition that could only be applied to things so awful they earned it on bizarreness alone.  Ron couldn't figure him out, not with so foreign an attitude.  Was Percy joking?  Attempting to?  Yet a strong brand of trademark earnestness ran through every taunting comment.  No, Ron had seen it before, on a rare few nasty occasions.  He had hated it then, and he hated it now.  "But you didn't have a funeral.  Your body was probably dumped in a river.  Or eaten. Hope you didn't make anyone sick."

            Percy scowled and swore again at the rope.

            "I don't think the rope likes that."

            "Ron, it's an inanimate object that doesn't like or dislike anything."

            So much for the joking.

            "Let's just go find the Baron," Percy said pallidly, drifting towards the far wall.  "Or Nick."

            "You find him."  Ron had just managed to hover a proper distance against the chair. He wasn't about to give up that small token of psuedo-comfort.  If only he could fall asleep.

            "You'll be coming, anyway."  Percy disappeared into the wall.  

            Ron didn't move, but awaited the now-familiar pain of the binding pull.  Ten seconds, twenty seconds, an entire minute passed.

            "Percy?" he called tentatively.  No answer.

            He jumped up and shot to the opposite end of the room, still expecting to feel the binding's jerk.  It never came.

            "Ron?"  Percy popped back into the room, glasses askew.

            Ron felt a rush of disappointment.  Percy had been on the other side of the wall all along.  But. . . the common room wasn't that small. . . .

            "I was on the other end of the school before I realized you weren't following me."

            Ron held up his wrist and examined the rope.  It didn't seem any different. "It must have stopped earlier."

            Percy furiously readjusted his glasses.  "When?"  The question was loaded; he already knew the answer.          

            "Probably when we decided to use up a day a couple hours ago."

            Percy swore again and disappeared.

            Immediately the common room was a little more cheerful.

            Ron slunk back into the chair, head spinning with amazement and annoyance.  Whatever had undone the binding was too simple.  Exactly how many hours had they wasted?  Well, it was done, and he was happily missing out on a funeral and Percy.

            But now what was he supposed to do?  Everyone was asleep, apparently too grieved to risk a little midnight prank or two.  Not that he wasn't sure Jillie or Cornelia or some other ghost would pop out at any moment.  He actually wanted to just curl up in the chair and fall asleep, if that were possible.

            The girls' staircase beckoned to him, and he would have gone to it if the memory of the barrier wasn't so fresh.  Despite Percy's semi-attempts at reassurances, he was still worried about Ginny.  She hadn't been seen since she had ran up there two days before.  Something other than Ron's death was wrong.  Did she truly blame Harry?  No attempt at changing that belief had been made.

            Since he couldn't check on Ginny, there was always the last resort of spying on people. The thought almost made him happy.  No, it made him quite happy.  No one could see him, and Percy wasn't around to chastise him.  With renewed excitement, he rushed through the wall and into the hallway.

            There was something energizing about the dark corridor.  He had experienced it before, at least a version of it, on those countless sneakings with Hermione and Harry, that tingling sensation of being the only ones existing in utter emptiness.  It was a good feeling, one that seemed to intensify itself now that he was alone.  Yet there was also a slackening.  Somethign was missing, with Hermione and Harry gone.  Ron hovered in the air, staring up and down the hall.  Portraits stirred in their sleep.  He doubted they could see him if they were awake. No matter.  Portraits were dull.  He drifted past them, scarcely caring.  The hall twisted continually on itself.  Ron had never before appreciated how maze-like the school could be.

            Then the darkness before lit in silvery-white.  He feel back as a group of ghosts floated past him, chatting among themselves.  They nodded and smiled at him, if anything at all, oblivious to his look of horror, before continuing on their way.

            Of course they weren't going to think anything of him. He was just another ghost haunting the school.  Rather infuriating.  He could chase them.  Like they'd care.

            So he continued on to the Slytherin common room.

            He still couldn't get over how ugly the place was.  No wonder so many Slytherins turned out so nasty–they were forced to live in Slytherin tower.

            Two staircases climbed up in opposite directions toward dormitories.  He had no desire to spy on Slytherin girls.  Why put up a barrier against what no one in their right mind would do?  But which one was which?  He studied both, searching for any tell-tale difference, a feminine bow or something.  There was nothing.  He finally picked what he decided was the more sinister and made his way up it, bracing himself for the shock which didn't come.  He paused at the landing before seven doors, just in case.

            He had done it. He hade made it up to the Slytherin boys' dorms.  He could haunt Draco Malfoy. How jealous would Harry be if he ever found out!  Laughing to himself, he went through a door.  A Slytherin door.  How disgusting.

            Beds lined the wall, their curtains drawn.  They could be hiding anything. He stuck his head through one.  A little tow-headed boy had wrapped himself in his blanket and was snoring into his pillow.  A first year.  Still reasonable innocent and naive.  That is, until he suffered nightmares of a ghost in his room.  Disappointed, Ron pulled out.  Years as prefect had not yet managed to instill any interest in first years.

            He found the seventh years' dormitory next door.  Perfect.  Sneaking upon Malfoy was a lifetime dream, one that would come true if he could somehow appear to Malfoy.  And of course that depended on the assumption Malfoy would awake.

            The first bed belonged to Crabbe, who was drooling over his pillow. 

            The next was the one he sought.  Malfoy's.  Ron popped his head through the thick curtain.  Malfoy's normally perfect hair clung haphazardly to the pillow, and he was curled in that childish fetal position.  It was almost, Ron thought with a grimace, cute.

            Malfoy muttered something and shifted his arm, revealing an object nestled against his neck.  Surprised, Ron leaned in for a closer look.  He had to be imagining things.

            It was a teddy bear.  A raggedly brown teddy bear with eyes enchanted to change colors.  Creepy, but not inappropriate for a Malfoy child.  A faded red ribbon was tied around the neck.

            "Priceless!" Ron exclaimed aloud.  If only there were a camera around.

            Malfoy's eyelids fluttered.

            Ron froze.  Had Malfoy heard him?  He hadn't truly expected this.  But there it was , a chance to haunt Malfoy.

            "Malfoy has a teddy bear!" he sang loudly.

            Malfoy didn't move.

            Ron felt a surge of disappointment.  That wasn't fair.  He had just thought he was becoming visible to the living world.  Or Malfoy was just a deep sleeper.

            He sighed and gave the teddy bear one last look. There had to be some way of letting Harry know.

            Morning was almost too long in coming, bringing with it an appreciated released from the miseries of night and boredom as well as the discouraging fact that the day was actually passing.  After the initial delight of the teddy bear discovery, the spy game had grown dull.  Most people weren't that interesting during sleep.  But it had been a time away from Percy.  But it had also hacked further at the hours of their separation.

            At least the funeral hadn't yet started.  Ron watched in morbid interest as a group gathered outside the Great Hall. His funeral party.  There were the expected: Harry, Hermione, Hagrid, Luna, the rest of the Gryffindor seventh years.  Ginny had emerged from her two-day self imprisonment and hung back from the group, morose, gingerly responding to the girls' attempts to comfort her.  Various teachers joined, as well as other students Ron had reasonable contact with.  Black being the color of the school robes, Ron thought he would be used to the color, but on this occasion even the little change in outfit presented a mood too somber.

            "Not a bad turn-out," Jillie remarked.  She and Cornelia had joined him on the staircase above.

            Ron stared at her.  "You act like it's a contest."

            She shrugged.

            "It means you're well-liked," Cornelia said as what she thought was an explanation.  "It's depressing when no one comes to your funeral."  She burst into flames.  "I had an excuse because of the war, of course."

            "Funerals are depressing no matter what," Ron said.

            "Don't think that way," Jillie said. "Maybe you should go.  It might be good for you. And it is only proper."

            "Are you going?"

            She made a face. "No.  Funerals are depressing.  Especially mine. Though the entire village did show."

            "I'm going," Cornelia said, brushing the last of the flames from her robe.  "I think one of us should go."

            "Percy is already going," Jillie pointed out.

            "He doesn't count," Ron muttered.  Since when had they all been 'us'?

            The funeral group began to file from the school.  It was a relief to watch them go. 

            "I'm off," Cornelia said cheerfully, and she flew down and out of the door.

            "She's invisible, right?" Ron asked Jillie.

            "Yes.  We're always invisible when we talk to you.  We may be ghosts, but we don' want to look like the lunatic kind that talk to empty air in front of the living."

            "I hate being invisible."

            "You'll adjust very soon.  And that will certainly be for the best."  She frowned.  "You aren't looking well."

            "That's because I'm dead," he snapped.

            She rolled her eyes, as if expecting the comeback and not at all impressed by actually hearing it.  "You just look awful.  Tired.  But that's to be expected for new ghosts.  It also makes for good haunting–"

            "Haunting?" echoed a jubilant and familiar voice.  "Little wee ghosties want to go a haunting!"

            "Hello, Peeves," Jillie said tersely, slowly turning around.

            Peeves the Poltergeist hovered behind them, all bright colors and a wicked grin.  He hugged a handful of berries stolen from breakfast.  "Hauntings can be mean. Not nice to go a haunting.  Especially new ghosties." He nodded solemnly at Ron, who cringed.  "New ghostie should go a haunting at a funeral."

            Great.  Even Peeves wanted him at the funeral.

            "Perhaps I should go," Peeves mused.

            Jillie stifled a laugh.

            "Peeves could mourn at funeral.  The Weasel's funeral."

            Somehow, Ron doubted this.

            "But this means I have a new friend."  He laughed and let a strawberry plummet to the floor, where it burst apart. 

            "I'm not going to be your friend," Ron said.  Thought the poltergeist was easily among the more interesting ghosts of the school.  But it was a strange thought that Ron was now a fellow ghost, now a student for Peeves to torment.

            "Me thinks you should consider that!"  Peeves picked an extra ripe berry and sent it spinning through Ron's head.

            "Hey!"  He managed to duck the next berry. "Knock it off!"

            Peeves only cackled and threw another.           

            Ron didn't much care for objects being thrown through him.  No wonder Moaning Myrtle had hated the sight of the things sailing harmlessly through her, leaving no affect.  It was disturbing.  "Look, first years!"  He pointed wildly at a group of children heading into the Great Hall.

            "Firsties!"  Peeves cradled the remaining berries in one hand and shot towards the unsuspecting students.

            Ron waited for the first cry of surprise to pass.  "That was easy."

            "It not hard to distract him," Jillie said. "Poltergeists exist only for mischief."

            Several berry remains were splattered over the floor.  Real, physical strawberries.  "Peeves is solid," he said thoughtfully.  "How come?"

            She shook her head, expression blank.  "I think it's just the fact that he is a poltergeist.  The must be a little different from normal ghosts."

            "He probably wouldn't give you a straight answer if you asked him."

            "That's true," she said with a laugh.  "Let's leave before he bores of the living." She floated through the ceiling, vanishing.  "So what are your plans for today?"

            Plans?  He had no actual plans.  Which is why he followed her into the above classroom, an empty one with only desks and a leathery dragon skin stretched across one wall like a great scaley tapestry.  It reminded him sorely of his brother Charlie.  He stuck his hand through it, trying to imagine what it should really feel like.  "I don't know.  What do ghosts do?"

            "Lots of things."

            "Like what?"

            She tugged absent-mindedly at the sleeve of her oversized robe.  "I don't know. What do you like to do?"

            "Quidditch."  The first thing that came to mind.

            "Quidditch?  What do you want to play that for?"

            "It's fun," he said defensively.

            "Fun."  She sighed.  "But hard to play when you can't touch a broomstick.  I'm going to the library.  Maybe Binichan will be there."  She Vaporated.

            "Binichan?" Ron echoed.  What kind of name was that?  He wondered if Jillie had a crush on someone.  Were ghosts allowed to have crushes?

            The library.  Percy had mentioned something about Ron looking for information on the ghost council.  And information usually meant library. But what books there would mention the spirit world in such detail?  He supposed he could return to the common room.  Not all the Gryffindors had gone to the funeral.  Perhaps some were even outside playing Quidditch.  Mocking him because he couldn't play.  Jerks.  He sighed and decided to work on his Vaporation.  He had spent the last few days mainly drifting along or being drug by Percy.

            "Common room," he muttered.  Common room.

            A rush of color sped before him, the chairs of the common room, faces. He was thrown into the air roughly, somewhere above a trio of third-years playing chess.

            "Maybe we should have gone," one was saying.  "After all, he was one of our prefects."

            "I know," said another.  "But funerals are depressing."

            They all nodded.

            Smart little buggers, Ron thought.

            The stairs to the boys' dormitories were at his left.  He still hadn't visited that old room yet.  He floated up the steps, leaving the third-years to compare various funerals they had been to.  The door to the seventh-years' dorm hung open, forgotten in the funeral rush.

            The room was silent, dim save for the sunlight peaking through the window's drawn curtain.  His bed stood where it had always been, ghastly dark and comforting at the same time. He held his h and up the curtain.  It was no more touchable than the dragon skin had been. He moved through them, a momentary vision of threads before his eyes.  Even more boring than the wooden door.  His blankets had not yet been stripped from the bed, but instead were neatly tucked in beneath the mattress.  He poked his head out. His trunk was gone.  So was Pig's cage.  The stupid little pest, he thought.  Who was taking care of him now? Ginny had always adored him.  He could imagine Pig fluttering about the girls' dorms, Ginny spoiling him with treats.

            He sighed and hovered above the mattress, as close to the surface as he would get.  It wasn't at all the same.  The bed was no longer his, just school property to be passed to some other student who didn't appreciate the fact that Sirius Black had attacked it.  Still, he could pretend. He closed his eyes.

            "Meowr."  Something jumped onto the bed, rumpling the blankets beneath Ron.  His eyes shot open. Had he fallen asleep?  Had he been dreaming?  The blankets. . .

            No.  A ball of ginger fur was curled up at the end of the bed, a pair of glowing golden eyes staring.        

            "Crookshanks," he muttered, sitting up.  The cat's eyes followed him, slowly intensifying.

            Could the cat see him?  He stared.  Crookshanks began purring.

            "Hey, Crookshanks," he murmured, reaching forward until his fingers hovered inches before the cat's tattered ears.

            Crookshanks hissed, snapping claws at Ron's hand.  With an instinctive cry Ron drew back.  The claws had gone right through him, of course.  With another hiss Crookshanks leapt off the bed and darted out the door.

            Ron floated from the bed, almost wanting Crookshanks to return.  How perfect.  Hermione couldn't see him, but her stupid cat could.  But it had been rather nice to be recognized by something living.  Perhaps it was a sign.

            He went to the window, the curtains sliding through him.  The sun was high, rays striking blindingly at the lake. So time had passed. But he couldn't have fallen asleep. Percy had said so.  Yet some of the fatigue seemed to have slackened.  He stared into the woods.  Dangers over the past few years had increased the warnings against entering the forest, but what harm could come to him now that he was dead?  There were no rules keeping him inside the castle.

            He pressed himself against and through the glass.  The ground was a dizzying fall beneath him.

            It was almost as good as a broom.

            With a shout he pummeled through the air, catching only the faintest sense of a breeze.  It was better than any broomstick.  He had never been very acrobatic, but perhaps. . . no, he couldn't bring himself to attempt a flip.

            He was now over the forest, the treetops jutting beneath him in green spirals.  He dove into them, the branches motionless as he passed through them.  Even so he expected the scratch of needles and leaves that didn't come.  The lacking contrast furthered his excitement.  The tumbled past the branches into an empty path, the ground nearly jumping up to meet him.  He jerked to a stop before it.  That strange, sucking feeling was strong in his mind.

            The cry of a bird rang out before the creature itself appeared, a blue streak aiming right for his head.  He ducked as it flew over him and up into the trees. 

            "Bloody bird," he called, shaking his fist after it.

            And then it appeared.  From the direction the bird had flown came a series of footsteps, hoof beats that made Ron turn.  It stepped into the path, and he screamed.

            He knew what it was.  He had studied its' kind in class, heard people describe them. Heck, he had even ridden one.  But that had not prepared him for the actual viewing of a thestral.  It stood calmly before him, ghastly eyes staring at him with all the threat of a puffskien.  And yet its skeletal form, the gigantic blackened wings. . . it was roughly something out of a nightmare.  And it could see him, and he it.

            The wings shifted once, stretching slightly out with the space of the path, and it took a step forward.  The bones twisted with unseen power.

            It's going to kill me, Ron thought. It's going to trample me and eat me and. . .  He was being an idiot.  The thestral could do nothing.

            But how could he see the thestral?  Hagrid had said in class that someone had to watch someone else die in order to see the creature.  But Ron hadn't seen anyone die.  Harry and Voldemort's fight had hardly been visible.  Had it been himself?  Did that count?  He hadn't exactly watched himself die.

            Without thinking he approached the thestral, which snorted and stamped the ground with one hoof.  But it seemed friendly enough.  "Hello," he said.  Bloody hell, he was talking to a horse.  Did he expect it to reply or something?

            The thestral further extended its wings.  They came out like rolls of black parchment.  One brushed Ron's arm, nearly knocking him over. It was warm, leathery.

            He screamed again and jumped into the air, his shoulder cutting through a branch.  The thestral stared up at him, curious.  It was his imagination.  It had to be.  He was a ghost.  He couldn't touch anything.  Not even a thestral.  His arm seemed to throb where the wing had struck him.

            Mustering all the courage he could find, he floated down to the waiting horse and held out a hand.  The thestral nuzzled its warm nose into it.  Ron could feel the ragged skin and bones, the hot breath.  All real enough and utterly tangible.

            He had fallen sleep and was dreaming. He had to be.

            Just in case, he Vaporated quickly back to the common room.

Shoutouts!

Written in Stars:  Earth Star is very cool. 

tina-leo18:  Thanks!  I'll tell you soon how he died. Soon….  I'm glad you wouldn't attend your own funeral, either!  At least someone's getting it!

Tap-dancing Widow:  It probably would be therapeutic, but then again, this is Ron.

starsmiles:  Yes and yes.  And I'm still getting through your story!  Just slowly. Blame college.  But it's good!

Shaman Dani of the Flamingos:  First off, I love your name!  Very cool!  Thanks for calling my story original!  I'm not sure where it came from, but I think I actually have inspirations.  ("Ghost" and Dan Yates novels)

patty smith:  I hope to make something exciting happen soon.  =)

Padfoot the evil elf:  I couldn't separate Ron from the spirit world.  'Sides, it's too much fun to work with.  =)

nkittyhawk:  I'll tell him off for frightening you.  also attacks fax machine

Neoepiphany:  Well… you'll hear the events of the funeral.  giggle  Thanks for your comments.

Moony vs. Padfoot: Ooh!  Accounts like that are fun!  I'll try to remember your differences!  And I'll try to get around to reading your story! I love fics, but I'm at college where evil professors make us work.  cries  Thanks for your comments!

Magenta's Cherish:  Ooh…  I like you caught that about Ginny!  About walking through walls… I see what you mean, but the Platform 9 ¾  seemed just walking at the wall and coming out somewhere else. At least that's how I see it.  I'll have to ponder that.  Thanks for bringing that up.  And you give such helpful reviews!

liseli vaniba-kateb: Thanks!  Great name, by the way.

LJ Fan:  Actually… Percy's usually invisible when he's around Ron.   Probably should mention that somewhere along the line.  blush  And Ron will make contact with Hermione, I promise.

Libby Bird:  Yay for pretzel sticks!  needs to go buy some  When are you updating your Hedwig story?

Kaitee:  smacks forehead  Dude, you're right.  Thanks for pointing that out.  rushes off to fix

Jane Taylor:  Thanks, Mom.

Jamie McFly:  GET OUT OF MY CHAIR!!!  Just kidding. You're perfectly welcome to it.  And my books.  And everything else in there that isn't personal.

Hydrangea:  looks around  Yes, this will be a Harry/Ginny fic as well.  That's my favorite ship in the whole wide world.

Hi Im Crazy:  Thanks!

Hiddenflame42:  He already is having these moments where people sense him. Sort of.  He'll get there.  Thanks!

From the Silent Planet:  Don't worry. The clock and the ghosts being stuck and all that will eventually be answered. 

duj:  Yeah, Percy is one of the more interesting characters in the series. He's great to work with.

DespairingAngel:  Nice to know people find it original  =)

Crystal Lightning: I read your chappie!  dances

awkward:  Curse your mother and her computer issues!  (Sorry!)  I'm glad you liked the Ron/Percy interaction. I did write that chapter early in the morning, so I was worried about how their conversation might come off.  So… no critiques?  I rely on those!


	9. Aftermath

So here it is: the next chapter. Bit late. Critique question: Do you think the last part is too rushed? I'm going into more detail in the next chapter about… the incident. But be honest.

Oh, and remember to see PoA movie sometime. I'm going on Saturday. Even though we could have easily gotten tickets for Thursday midnight, my neighbor and I are going to be good girls and study and take tests so we can have a guilt-free Saturday. nod And we get to see it in a brand-new theatre! squee

* * *

"So you touched it?" Jillied asked, eyes wide and solemn. "You actually walked up to the thing, stuck our your little hand, and touched it? And you could feel it? It didn't pass through you?"

"Yes," Ron replied. His patience had never been strong, and Jillie's interrogation had gone on far too long. What had begun as a simple question had stretched itself into a full panic attack by way of Jillie's curiosity. "I could feel it. It was like. . .like just when I was alive." His fingers lit silver against the darkness of the flooded dungeon—no different from any other ghost's. And yet. . . something was wrong. Something had to be. He wasn't supposed to touch anything. That freak of a horse, lastly.

Jillie, too, was watching his hands, as if expecting them to burst into something. Perhaps flames, like Cornelia. "Ron, I apologize if its my fault this is scaring you anymore than it was."

"You nearly tore my arm off." And she had screamed when he had first told her—in doing so accidentally letting the living hear her voice and sending a group of third-year girls fleeing. Almost reminded him of Ginny. Why did girls have to overreact to everything?

Jillie smirked, remembering. "But I don't think I've ever heard of anything like this. But. . ." She bit her lip and stared at the black water beneath her. "But I've a confession. I've been dead almost 600 years, but I've been in Hogwarts the whole time, for the most part."

Exactly how much outside experience did the girl have? "What?"

"Well, Hogwarts is more interesting."

"I don't care about the school, I hate it. I want to know if you know what you're talking about." If that wasn't a stupid thing to say.

For a moment she looked ready to react, but with a pivotal shrug she continued. "I'm just saying that I don't know all that much about ghosts touching thestrals. They only started breeding them here in the last century. I had never even heard of them until then."

Ron wondered what else might be running around Hogwarts by the time he was free of Percy. "And you have never touched one?"

"I haven't even gone near one. They're scary."

"Tell me about it." He stifled a yawn. "I had to ride one a couple of years ago and I think I prefer it when I can't see them."

"Mm." She dropped down to the water and skillfully walked over its surface. "I'm not going to touch one to see. Ask around. Try Moaning Myrtle. She'll touch anything."

Moaning Myrtle. How long before she discovered him? "One probably would when living in a septic tank."

Jillie laughed and rose back into the air. "At least it was more appealing than your funeral."

"The funeral." All exhaustion fled. "Thank-you for bringing that up."

"How much time do you have before Percy has to return?"

"I don't. . ." Panic set in. The day had gone by much too fast! He stared at his wrist where the silvery rope still hung. Exactly what did one day mean? "But I haven't done anything to day!"

He had barely spoken when the rope gave a swift, burning jerk. He yanked his arm down to his side. Jillie gasped, a noise that quickly morphed into a shrill laugh.

  


"Percy's going to try and drag you somewhere again!" she said. "Drag him here! He'd hate that!"

Of course Percy would attempt to bring Ron to wherever he was as soon as the binding resumed its demand. Yet. . was Percy fully aware it was back? Flashing a grin at Jillie, Ron willed himself to remain in the dungeon room. The murky, spider-filled water beneath. . . how lovely it would be to have Percy enter that. Who cares if he couldn't feel it or get wet. . . Ron's wrist burned, resentful at being forced to remain when it was clearly wanted somewhere else. He could feel the room fading, could sense another place.. . .

"Come on," Jillie urged.

If he could hang on a little more. . . it was his turn to yank Percy somewhere, see how he liked it. He imagined the invisible rope between them and twisted himself into it until it went taut.

"Hey!" Percy popped in to the room, another spectral light suddenly blinding in the dark dungeon. "Ron!" He rubbed furiously at his wrist and readjusted his glasses.

The sight was even more satisfying than Ron had imagined. "Now you know how I feel."

Percy stared around at the molding walls and slipped out of the water. "Why this place? I hate this place."

"No interesting facts to share?"

"Oh, I've plenty."

"Where's Cornelia?" Jillie asked.

A smile slowly broke though as Percy looked to the rotting ceiling. "She's around somewhere. She enjoyed the funeral."

Why did the funeral have to lurk everywhere? Ron didn't want to know the morbid details.

But Jillie spoke first. "So how did that go?"

Percy's grin stretched further. "It was good."

"How can my funeral be good?" Ron heard himself asking.

At that moment, Cornelia appeared, doubled over laughing in a ball of flames.

"Cornelia," Jillie began.

Cornelia shook her head, unable to speak.

That couldn't be good. "What's going on?" Ron demanded. "What happened?"

"You were cremated," Percy said happily.

He nearly fell. "What?!"

Cornelia's laughter increased.

"Yes, Ron you were actually cremated."

Cremated. "You mean that I'm a jar of ashes?"

"I'm afraid so." The immediate news having passed, Percy wrestled his smile away for his usual sneer. "But it's not so bad. Mum and Dad found a really nice vase for you. Maroon."

Jillie snickered. "You're a vase?"

  


"That's not the best part," Cornelia managed to gasp. "Let him know what happened before that."

"Before?" Percy stared at her, seemed to remember something, and nodded. "Oh, yes. But I don't think Ron should hear about that."

"Hear about what?" Ron fought a sudden urge to strange Percy.

"When they were preparing your body for cremation.. . ." Percy sighed and shook his head, looking for all the world as if the Ministry had been bombed. ""Whey they were preparing your body, there was an accident. Somehow some floo powder got in there—"

"Floo powder?"

"Well.. . . your body was . . lost for a minute or two."

This couldn't be real.

"Somehow you wound up in that shop on Knockturn Alley. But Bill did manage to talk some sense into the fellow trying to buy you as a centerpiece—"

"What did you do?" Ron threw himself at Percy, knocking him back through the water.

Jillie was now laughing as hard as Cornelia.

Percy jumped back up, hardly perturbed by Ron's attack. "Now that's what you get for not attending your own funeral."

"Huh?" Ron's mind was still cemented in the chaos.

"He means we were joking," Cornelia said between giggles.

But Percy didn't make jokes.

"Honestly, Ron. You didn't think we were serious."

Ron cringed. He hated how Percy was watching him, with that awful holier-than-thou, you're such-an-idiot gaze. "That wasn't funny."

"I came up with it!" Cornelia exclaimed, high-fiving Jillie.

"Fred and George could have maybe done a better lie," Percy mused. "But apparently you still believed us. . . come on, it was actually a nice funeral."

"You told me I was cremated." Ron fought back another yawn. That excitement had weakened him more than anything.

Cornelia and Jillie watched him with fresh worry.

"Haven't you bothered to sleep yet?" Jillie asked.

"Sleep?" The most wonderful word there was. The past few days suddenly seemed a blur. "But I thought we couldn't—"

"The recently dead do!" Jillie shot him a withering look. "Ron, it takes a lot of energy to die. Most ghosts take occasional naps even then. You still exist! What idiot told you not to sleep?"

Percy faked a cough.

"Oh, brother," Cornelia muttered. "Percy, that was really mean!"

  


"I would have thought he would eventually fall asleep instead of forcing himself to stay awake. . ."

Which he had done. Ron could have kicked himself.

"You're both mad," Jillie said, throwing up her arms so the overlarge sleeves of her robe tumbled down past her bare arms. "I'm leaving before you kill each other again."

"Good luck," Cornelia said with a wave.

Percy waited until both girls Vaporated before continuing. "You weren't cremated."

The lies he could spread were unbelievable. "First you tell me I can't sleep and then you tell me I was cremated? So what disaster actually happened there?"

Percy picked at the rope, barely shrugging. "There were no disasters. Though Fred and George spoke of starting a mud fight."

"Why didn't they?" The cremation aside, the funeral suddenly seemed depressingly boring—a good mud fight would have been refreshing in the least.

"There wasn't any mud. But it was a bit windy. Really, everything was fine."

Ron stared down at the water, wondering if there were just as many spiders crawling through the cemetery dirt as swimming and spinning through the dungeon. "How could a funeral be fine?"

"What kind of question is that? Of course people were upset. Do you want me to assure you it was miserable?"

But he didn't want that. The image came, everyone in black. . . "How were Mum and Dad?"

Percy stared wonderingly at Ron. Then, shaking his head, he said "You were murdered only days ago. You're their son and they love you. How would you imagine they were? Even Fred and George were sad."

Ron fell back into the wall, inwardly burning. So it had been a stupid question. "And you think it would have been better if I had gone?"

"I don't think you get—"

"You're just on me about it because you didn't have a funeral."

"I was hardly on speaking terms with the family," Percy replied. "And I don't expect them to be willing to deal with another death."

Ron kicked back into the wall. The clammy smoke of the stones seemed almost to cling to him. "But you died first."

"They don't know what. They don't even know I'm dead."

"And they wouldn't care anyway."

Percy reeled back, glasses slipping from his nose. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

He shrugged.

"Just because you get the novelty of being murdered by the Dark Lord. . ."

Ron perked up. A clue to the mysterious death. "So you weren't murdered?"

Percy pulled off his glasses and habitually wiped them on his robe. "I didn't say I wasn't murdered. I—"

  


"So now you were murdered?"

He looked ready to throw the glasses at Ron. "You might say that. And I don't care to discuss it any further. Did you learn anything about this spirit council? Who the person out in the world might be?"

Oops. "I'd rather hear how you died."

"Ron!" Percy shoved his glasses back on and whirled toward the ceiling.

This time Ron wasn't prepared to jerk back. Scowling, he let himself be dragged, hoping it would be more strain on Percy. "Where are we going?"

"The library. Where you should have been."

"And what exactly are we supposed to find in the library?" Around him the dungeons merged and blurred and brightened into the familiarity of the library. Shelves of books surrounded him, and Percy plunged deeper into the shelves, going farther than Ron was sure Hermione had explored.

"Books, you moron." He stopped in before a shelf.

"We can't touch books." Ron hovered over a rickety bookcase, not caring what Percy looked at.

"Ever wonder where books go when they're destroyed?" To Ron's surprise, Percy pulled a book from the shelf before him. But not just any book. It was. . . he didn't know how else to describe it. A ghost book, that's what it was. Pale and transparent and utterly spectral. Percy flipped through it before placing it back on the shelf and selecting another one. "Where else do you think Professor Binns gets his lesson plans?"

"Er. . ." Ron had never particularly cared much about anything Professor Binns had done. Yet the old ghost always seemed to have notes. "I still don't while you're reading these."

Percy slammed the book shut and grabbed a third. "Research, Ron. Maybe you've heard of it. I don't know a thing about this council, and obviously no one is going to help us. But. . .it's got to be discussed in one of these books."

Ron stared at the books. They were just as heavy and thick as any Hermione could dream of. "I'm not reading those."

"Then don't."

That was perhaps the best thing Percy had ever said to him. Pulling himself the full fifty available feet away, he managed to find a comfortable hovering distance above the floor and fell asleep. But not before deciding that Percy would get definite revenge.

He wasn't sure how long he had been asleep when the scattered sound of footsteps jarred him awake. He sat up quickly, unsure of why exactly he was in the library. He had fallen asleep studying again.

No. He didn't have to study anymore. And he had been sleeping on the floor–actually somewhat above it.

The footsteps hesitated, then resumed the uneven pace. Something about the sound was oddly familiar. Curious, he walked through a shelf into the next aisle.

Hermione stood only feet away, absorbed in reading the titles of the dusty volumes lining the shelves. Ron could only stare. She muttered something under her breath and reached up to pull a particularly large book away. It threw her off balance for a moment, but she caught herself and marched right past him.

Why couldn't she see him yet? Could he follow her? He had no idea where Percy was.

  


It didn't matter. She sat down at a nearby table nestled among the shelves, the tabletop already scattered with her usual notes. Homework. Why was she always so wrapped up in homework? She opened the book and began reading. At least, that's what he thought at first. But she was a fast reader. After a few minutes he realized that she had thrown the book open to the middle and had so far failed to turn a single page. She wasn't going to start crying, was she?

Jamie, everyone, had told him it would take only a few days to adjust to the spirit world. A few days had passed. Why wasn't he yet visible? For heaven's sake, Hermione's cat could see him. Then there had been the moment when he thought he had nearly awoken Malfoy. Had he really tried to let anyone see him?

He wasn't that far from her, only the width of the table.

Concentrate, he told himself. How much work did it take to become visible? All the other ghosts could do it. If he just concentrated enough. . .

And then. .. He wasn't quite sure what happened. As it was, it only lasted for a one or two seconds. One or two too long seconds that seemed to stretch into hours. Hermione stared at him, eyes wide, mouth open in shock. He stared back at her, mind whirling. What had he just done?

Two seconds later, he was invisible again. He ducked beneath the table, just in case, scarcely daring to believe she could no longer see him. Stupid, stupid, stupid! She had seen him, that much was obvious. And yet he was perhaps more shocked than her. No wonder Percy had warned against appearing.

Hermione sat frozen in her chair. He could hear her breaths, quick and loud. He hadn't meant to scare her to death.

Her hand fell from the table to her side. He could see her fingers twitch in panic.

"Ron?" she whispered. Not a call, barely even a question.

He swore under his breath and darted back into the shelves. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

* * *

Shout Outs!

Written in Stars: Good grief, no! I will not be pulling a Meiko with Binnichan! That's sick! You have a sick mind!

v-babe24: Danikins! I'm glad you like!

pIPPENpIRATE: I hope I can keep your addiction going.

nkittyhawk: Yes, your writing is slow. is impatient for more li'l Voldy

Jamie McFly: I'm glad you're actually reading it. Ooh! I got my "Series of Unfortunate Events" pack!

LJ Fan: squee romantic fluff! You're after my own heart. You'll get it. I hope you like the intereaction in this chapter.

Icy Dragon Claws: yes! That cat is hideous!

hydraspit: I don't think he says "me" all the time, either. I think I left an "I" in one of his phrases. But it was kind of fun for him to say. I kind of have to do all this research on Peeves' ways. curses

Hi Im Crazy: I just read your last chapter! Very cool! waves Blaise flag

HiddenFlame42: I couldn't resist embarrassing Draco in some way.

duj: I hope to never write a sickly-embarrassing apology.

Crystal Lightening: You're welcome. Your last chappie was a good one!

Amelia Glitter: Yeah, they are wasting their times, aren't they? Moronic boys.


	10. Binnichan!

Stupid, stupid, stupid. Ron blasted through a row of shelves, flashes of parchment and wood slicing through him. He barely noticed. All that mattered was Hermione behind him, staring into whatever realms of the netherworld she might be imagining. Bloody hell, did she still think he was there? What else might she be thinking? Her dead friend was haunting her, her dead friend was haunting her.

And he was that dead friend. How stupid could he have been?

Or maybe she thought she was insane–he had only been there for a second or two, just enough to be but a vision of madness. So now she thought she was seeing things. Maybe he should go back and be sure, maybe explain. . . Explain what? That he liked to follow her around and spy on her? He had seen Hermione angry. . .

Percy hadn't moved, though he was now surrounded by a growing ring of tossed-off books. He flipped through another volume, face like stone, before throwing it aside with an unintelligible murmur. He looked up as Ron neared, glowering. "I'm not finding anything."

As if Ron cared. "Then why are you still looking?"

"At least I'm doing something." He swiped at another book with barely a glance at the title, sending it spinning into a physical shelf. "You, on the other hand, are just goofing off as usual. What have you been doing about our situation?" McGonagall couldn't have been more demanding.

Ron stared. "What have I been doing?"

"That's what I asked."

He didn't know where to begin. Did he even want to tell Percy about the Hermione incident?

A delaying moment of panic–it was too late. Percy leaned forward, books forgotten. "Ron. . . what did you do?"

"Nothing." Did his voice really squeak?

"You're lying."

"I am not."

"You're hardly a good liar." A slow smile began. "Did you go visible? Did someone see you?"

He had a sudden urge to run. Or whatever he was allowed to do as a ghost. Fifty feet was a fair distance, especially in the labyrinth of the library. And yet at closer range were the books, the ghostly ones, lying about like a weapon fair. . . all he had to do was grab one. He flung himself upon a particularly heavy looking copy and jumped back.

It was now Percy's turn to stare. "Are you going to throw that at me?"

Ron pulled back his arm, the book trembling and ready to crush something.

"You can't be serious." His smile deepened. Hardly a very Percy expression. More like Fred and George. "Someone really did see you!"

Somewhere, in the back corner of Ron's brain, a tiny voice shrieked all claims of stupidity at him, to just put the book down, that it wasn't at all threatening. But then, he had always wanted to throw a book at someone, for whatever random reason. He preferred that thought. "I don't have to tell you anything."

"You just admitted it."

"I did not."

"You're being quite obvious." Percy shook his head and picked up his own book. "Fine. Throw your book,. But I can tell you that this one is heavier."

  


"If I throw mine, you'll drop yours."

"Why don't you just tell me who saw you?"

Ron could feel the leather of the spine. Amazing how that continued with the book's death. "I've actual Quidditch experience!"

The smile vanished from Percy's face. He stared unblinkingly at Ron, his own book ready to throw. Ron stared back, imagining the book just a quaffle in his hands. Or perhaps a bludger. Yes, it was definitely a bludger.

Then, with an impatient sigh, Percy tossed his book back on the shelf. "Do you have any idea how pointless this is? What are they going to do to us?"

Ron didn't care. He released the book. It missed Percy's head by a good three feet and sailed through the library wall.

Percy watched it go with mild interest, then turned to Ron, grin back. "Quidditch experience, you claimed?"

Ron slunk back into a shelf, burning. "You moved."

"I've been here the entire time. So who saw you? Was it Harry?" His voice peaked with the name. "Hermione? Some little first-year Muggle-born who has never seen a ghost?"

There was no point in avoiding it. Never really had been, for that matter. She was probably still back there. Upset. He hadn't meant to upset her. "It was Hermione."

He expected another derisive laugh, but Percy said nothing, only went to picking up the mess of books. Had Percy even heard?

"Well?"

"Well, what?" Percy set a stack of three on the shelf, their smoke-colored spines blending almost invisible into the grey-toned wood. "I"d thought you'd appear to either her or Harry first."

"But you told me not to appear to anyone."

"Yes, but I knew you would listen. Do you regret it now?"

"Not listening to you?" Ron stared at the shelves, almost seeing Hermione sitting beyond them. "I think she thinks she's insane."

Percy set to arranging the three books against the others. Ron wondered if Madame Pince had some way of knowing about this ghostly section of her library. "If you saw someone who just died, you'd probably think you were crazy as well. There's a reason I warned you about this–people only like the idea of ghosts of people they care about, some semblance of existence beyond the grave. It's rather pathetic, really."

"What about Nearly Headless Nick and that lot?"

"They are school ghosts who've been dead for years that like to haunt. They don't count. Besides, how many of them do you actually like?"

He had a point. "But Hermione didn't scream or anything like that."

Percy picked up another book and frowned at the cover. "Are you sure she saw you, then?"

If Ron thought about it, he might eventually make himself doubt so. He had been eager, far too eager, to see her, but. . . no. She had looked right at him, had said his name. "I think I surprised her more than anything." As if that were any better. "Bloody hell, I know she saw me." And then before he knew what he was asking, he said "So who saw you?"

The book dropped from Percy's hands. "What?"

  


Of course. Despite what he might think, Percy wasn't so perfect as to depend forever on whatever rules he had made up. He had to have made the same dumb mistake. And the results might be even worse. Hermione's situation might be nothing. What stroke of intelligence had brought that realization about? "You wouldn't be warning me unless you knew there would be a problem."

Percy's mouth fell open in a brief moment of something before he bothered with a defense. "Anyone with any sense would know–"

"Someone saw you. I told you. So you have to tell me. Was it your murderer?"

"Murderer?" he echoed, bewildered.

"Or maybe that girl you used to snog." This was getting fun; no wonder Percy had so seemed to enjoy the other interrogation. "What was her name?"

"Penelope." Percy's hand slipped to the knot at his wrist, and he gave the ends such a yank the rope might as well have cut through him. "Her name was Penelope, and yes, she saw me."

He wasn't supposed to have responded so quickly. The cutting abruptness only ruined the moment, and for a moment Ron was at a loss for words. Yet he had to say something. "You scared your ex-girlfriend?"

With a sigh Percy let the rope ends fall limply, and he forced a smile. "I also appeared to Cornelius Fudge. That wasn't quite as bad."

"You returned from the dead to kiss up to the Minister?" Somehow Ron wasn't surprised.

Percy gave a dry laugh. "Actually, I wouldn't put it that way, quite."

To think of Percy doing anything but. . . that was impossible. "Then what did you do to him?"

He shrugged.

"You haunted Fudge?"

"I didn't haunt anyone. Haunting is. . . more of a long term thing." He made it sound like a text book.

Ron stared at him, searching for a sign that it was all some sort of weird Percy attempt at a joke. So there had been the cremation thing. . . he suddenly didn't know what to think. "So what happened?"

Percy shrugged again, twisting from Ron's gaze. "It's kind of a long story."

"Fudge is a complete git! I'll hear it!"

"I thought we were talking about you and Hermione Granger."

"My, my. Only a few days and you're actually talking." Nearly Headless Nick slid through the near wall, Ron's thrown book in hand and his normally jovial aura back as if the other night had never happened. "I must say I'm impressed. Perhaps the Bloody Baron was correct in his thinking." He stopped at the mess of books, then "Looking for something?"

Percy's frown returned. "We were looking for information about the council you mentioned, Sir Nicholas."

"The one you don't know anything about," Ron muttered under his breath.

Nick actually flashed a smile at Ron. "I don't know much either. I've never been, I'm afraid. And I'm sorry to say that I don't think anyone has actually written anything about it."

Percy swore as Ron laughed. "You moron."

  


"You're better off just looking for the representative in this world," Nick said, placing the book carefully on the shelf. "Or maybe going to the spirit world yourself. But I do want to inform you that you shouldn't be throwing books around like it were all a Quidditch game, especially since a certain someone is headed this way."

He had barely spoken when a distant chanting pierced the air:

"Oh, history is such a bore.

Students can't take it anymore.

They want to stuff you in a drawer–"

"Peeves." Nick knocked the remainder of the books off the shelf. "And apparently him as well. So there's no point to chiding anyone about the mess. I humbly apologize. Good luck." With a shake of his head, he disappeared back through the wall.

"Maybe we should leave," Percy said.

An entire row of books crashed suddenly from a nearby shelf, and Peeves voice rang out:

"They'll shred their notes and burn their text,

And want to send it all to heck!"

A different voice fell in with the lines of the song, laughing. There was something oddly familiar about it, though Ron was sure he had never heard anything like it. He looked to Percy for an explanation.

Percy groaned. "We really should leave now. I'm not in the mood for any of Binnichan's great remarks."

"Binnichan? Jillie mentioned him."

"Because she actually likes him–"

A second row of books plummeted from their shelf, and Peeves appeared, still singing his nonsense song, which ended abruptly. "New ghostie! And you're actually studying! Binnichan will be so pleased."

"I'm not studying," Ron began.

"Professor!" Peeves shouted. "It's a miracle!"

Another ghost popped through the shelf, in a manner disturbingly similar to what Ron had seen day after miserable day, year after year. Yet it couldn't be.

"Professor Binns?" he asked.

But it couldn't be Professor Binns, not the dreadfully boring professor of History of Magic with his insufferable droning and classes. But there he was, humming absent-mindedly Peeves' tune, looking more alive than any ghost should look. " Oh, Mr. Weasley," he said brightly. "And. .. Mr. Weasley! So sorry to hear about your death, but hey, it happens!"

"I. . ." The world had just gone mad. Professor Binns had just tried to chat with him! "I. . . thanks, I guess."

Professor Binns laughed and shook his head. "At least you were murdered, which is always an exciting death. You can tell stories about that sort of death. More interesting stories about falling asleep in front of a fire, even though. . . "

"You had the life force sucked from you by a rival wizard," Percy recited, unimpressed. "I know."

A smirk crossed Binns' face. "Good to hear you getting it. But still, the Dark Lord makes for a better death."

"And it shall be immortal," Peeves said solemnly. "Oh, Ronnikins, he died, and now he's petrified. . . "

"Of course, that song could be applied to any death. And by the way, Mr. Weasley, the dead have the privilege of calling me Binnichan."

  


"Binnichan." The world truly was mad.

Binnichan nodded. "Yes, it has such a good ring to it. Just don't tell any of the living, including that old bat Dumbledore. Even though he was easily the most interesting teacher here, he already stopped paying me years ago. Now. . what have you done with the books? I have lesson plans to prepare and this is sadly the only source I can use. . ." He frowned at Ron, who pointed at Percy.

Binnichan sighed. "You, Mr. Weasley, I'd never thought you'd do anything like that. What about my lesson?"

Percy kicked at a book. "Professor–"

"How many times must I insist you call me Binnichan?"

"Professor, you merely copy footnotes and read them aloud!"

Binnichan let out a deep laugh. "One of my more brilliant schemes. The living are so boring already they deserve it."

"You made class boring on purpose?" Ron asked, and Binnichan laughed again.

"I enjoy boring students. It's fun. It's hysterical to watch them suffer under the dead boring Professor Binns. But among the dead I can be Binnichan."

"For crying out loud, you're not even Japanese!" Percy scooped up an armload of books and shoved them onto the shelf. "Sorry about your books, Professor."

"Don't brown-nose me, you can do that at the Ministry."

Did a teacher just insult Percy? Ron waited for a reaction.

Peeves clucked his tongue. "If Percy gets mad, he might never get away."

Percy froze as he turned to leave, his back to the others. Ron could tell he was trying very hard to keep his temper. Binnichan seemed to notice this and took it as an even bigger joke.

"I think you upset him, upset him!' Peeves sang.

"Oh, go choke on broccoli."

Everyone stared at him in amazement, including Peeves, whose song ended, forgotten.

"Choke on broccoli?" Ron echoed jeeringly. "What kind of come back is that supposed to be?"

Percy groaned and shook his head. "I'm out of here."

"To the Ministry?" Binnichan asked.

He made an impolite gesture, which Peeves readily flung back. Then he vaporated and Ron only caught the first few strands of Peeves' new song before he was jerked to the familiar brightness of the Hogwarts' grounds. The hoops of the Quidditch field towered nearby, various players trading shouts as they practiced. Opposite them stretched the woods.

"I haven't been outside for awhile," Percy said, a forced attempt at conversation agaisnt all that happened in the library.

Ron would have preferred to ignore him. The Quidditch field was so close with its refreshing familiarity of broomsticks and quaffles and losing Slytherins–-perhaps it wasn't too late for Percy to be hit with a bludger after all.

Percy didn't take the hint. "What do you think Peeves meant?"

A well-placed bludger knocked someone else from their broom. "Huh?"

Percy grabbed Ron's shoulder and sun him away from the field. "Peeves. He said if I got mad, I won't get away. What did he mean?"

Ron pulled away. "It's Peeves. He's a nutcase anyway. I don't know why it's such a big deal. He mas making fun of you. Which you deserve, by the way."

  


"Don't tell me you're going to become one of Binnichan's irritating devoted followers."

Ron considered it. Binnichan was even worse than Professor Binns, despite his insult of Percy. "No, he's a nutcase, too."

"Thanks for agreeing with me."

"I'm not agreeing with you. You're even crazier. Trying to make sense out of Peeves."

"Well, he's never said anything like that." But he backed off, still frowning.

A flock of birds erupted from the woods in a flurry of black feathers.

Percy gave a mild laugh. "That's always fun to watch. They probably ran into a thestral and didn't know what to think."

The thestral. The memory came floating back, the flesh beneath Ron's hand, and he grimaced. "Thestrals?"

"Thestrals. You know, the horses in the woods. They actually pull the school carriages." Percy slid comfortably into an educational ramble. "They're really quite fascinating. You can only see them if–"

"If you've seen someone get the axe," Ron finished. "I know. Sometimes I do bother to pay attention in class, Percy."

"I didn't say you didn't. I was just saying."

"Yeah, well, sometimes you say too much."

Percy rolled his eyes, unruffled. "Well, what do you think of them?"

"They're hideous. Snake horses." The words were out before he could catch himself.

"So you've actually seem them?"

"I. . ." Ron stared at the woods, expecting one to walk right out and bite him. "Let's not go through this again."

Percy nodded thoughtfully, also gazing into the trees. "The reason you can see them is because they're one of the few creatures that exist between the worlds. They're just as much ghost as they are alive."

"Believe me, that's fascinating, but–"

"Are you aware you could touch them, as you are right now?"

Ron closed his eyes, sighing. In relief? "Yes," he said stiffly. "I was aware."

* * *

She was insane. She was absolutely beyond all reasonable doubt insane. If she had any logical thought left, she would return to her book and attempt to make some sense of the idiotic jumble of words. . . but the air was still there before her, empty.

"Ron," Hermione murmured again. She bit her lip and brushed curls from her eyes. She couldn't start crying again, she was already so dry. "If I'm not crazy, don't let me be thinking this."

But there was nothing.

And what did she expect? For Ron, for that psychotic vision, to return? If she had really seen anything, it had only been for that brief moment. Most likely it had been her and whatever her brain was doing her. But she didn't care.

"The dead never truly leave us," she heard herself whisper. What was that? A quote she had heard somewhere. Most likely made up herself. But Ron.. . he wouldn't be the type to just. . . hang around. Would he?

She missed him so much. The funeral, that had been nice. No, it hadn't. It had been Ron in that coffin being lowered into that hole in the ground where she could never see him again, and there was nothing nice about that. It had been Ron's family standing around with broken hearts and her. . . She shut her eyes as the tears burned their ways out. And none of them would see him again. Not in this life. Maybe that was it. Maybe she had just wanted to see him again so badly. . . didn't stress do that? Her father would have a book on it, no doubt.

When she opened her eyes, the air was still there before her, empty save for the endless shelves of dusty books. He wasn't there. He never had been. Ron haunting her. . . she shoved the thought away. It was too painful. She hadn't expected him to be back, anyway.

Just don't think about it, she told herself. Just don't think about it.

The nonsense words on the pages blurred before her eyes like water had been thrown on them.

Why had he looked so surprised?

* * *

* * *

**_SHOUT OUTS TO THE COOLEST PEOPLE AROUND!_**

**Midnight Dove:** No, it wasn't the big S, but that is a good guess. I'm quite flattered you sat through the entire reading! Thanks!

**cry missing:** I'm actually considering just taking the humor genre off, because I never did plan on making it downright comedy. _blush _ But there will be occasional humor. Any advice?

**HiddenFlame42**: What do you think of Hermione seeing him now?

**duj**: Hey, it's up to Percy to announce his death_. hides_

**Amelia Glitter**: I don't think I'd mind being chained to him, either.

**Icy Dragon Claws**: The reason I'm not saying is because you're downright entertaining, banging your head on the monitor. Though I am dropping occasional clues. . .

**Hydrangea777**: Thanks! Don't worry, there will be more than a "second" eventually.

**pIPPENpIRATE**: Go Vanilla Coke! And go update Treasure Planet story!

**Crystal Lightening**: er… that cookie is mighty tempting! I might give in eventually!

**Elski:** Well, you reviewed there! =) I'm loving your story, by the way.

**MerlinHalliwell**: Thanks!

**v-babe24**: Ooh! I need to e-mail you about Dream! Or at least include it in an e-mail.

**Written in Stars**: The lack of Ron ruined that wedding, you realize.

**liseli**: gah! Pool toys! Scary!

meenyrocks: Ron shouldn't let Hermione be seeing him because it is rather traumatizing for both of them. I kinda liked PoA. Different, but good.

**LJ Fan**: Oh my goodness. There is a long, long story behind the cremation and why I put it in there. Glad you believed it. Did you panic?

**Hi I'm Crazy:** Isn't it great? She can see him! Yay!


	11. What To Do When Bored

Ron wasn't sure who came up with the idea in the first place, or even how any conversation had drifted in that direction. He doubted it was any of his own inspiration, however. He wouldn't come up with anything so stupid, could he? And yet he always had noticed some difficult in backing down from his own dares.

He leaned back from the thestral's boney neck into a rather precarious balance on the creature's back. As if in offense the thing turned to look at him, huge eyes blinking innocently. Like some puppy, he thought again.

"I think he wants you to pet him, Ron," Percy called, leading his own thestral over a fallen log.

Ron knew the lank mane could be used as reins, but the very idea of touching it sickened him—a rather strange feeling for a ghost. It had been bad enough when he was alive and unable to see thestrals; he think he preferred the ignorance of invisibility to having to see them. "I'm not petting him. He's not a pet."

"Maybe if you showed him some affection, he'd win for you."

"We've only raced twice. Your thestral is cheating."

Percy sent him one of his you're-a-moron looks. "It's a non-sentient animal. He can't cheat."

The thestral reached to nibble at Ron's fingers. With a yelp he yanked them back. "He's trying to eat me!"

"So my thestral is cheating and yours eats ghosts?"

"He can touch ghosts. Why can't he eat them?"

Percy snorted, but Ron noticed him giving his thestral the slightest of glances. "They're horses. That. . . happen to eat human flesh."

"Maybe we can feed them Malfoy."

"His poor teddy bear will be so sad without him," Percy said dryly. "So. . . are we going to race again."

Ron's thestral beat it's hoofs into the grass, releasing a fountain of dirt that sprayed unpleasantly through Ron's torso. "You'll cheat again."

"So now I'm the cheater?" A rare grin spread over his face. "Come on. You're just afraid you'll lose again."

"I'd beat you if you didn't cheat!" He did want to race again. Percy wasn't very athletic, and even physical skill had to figure somewhere into horse-riding. Without waiting for a reply he gingerly kicked the thestral into a trot and headed toward the clump of trees that had been designated the starting line. The course was a fairy simple one: around the lake, diagonally across the grounds, and into the air in a wide circle over the Quidditch field before returning to the trees. Luckily none of the living Quidditch players had ever witnessed a death.

"You'd beat me if your horse were faster." Percy lined his thestral with Ron's and gripped the mane tightly in his fists. "Well, then. Are we ready?"

With a grim smile Ron nodded. "Yes. Ready, set, go!"

The thestrals were off, pounding viciously at the ground as they darted toward the lake. The vibrations tore through Ron; to his amazement he wasn't used to that kind of motion. To actually touch something. . . it was suddenly an entirely new experience.

Percy was moving ahead. Again. He leaned into the thestral, arms now clutched around its neck. A little too professional, Ron thought with a smirk. Evidently Percy had watched professional jockeys and was imitating whatever odd quirk he could. The result was ridiculous. But it did seem to be working. The thestral's mane whipped at Ron's hands, again uncomfortably warm. Well, if it helped him win.. . . he slid his fingers through the course hair squeezed it. The horse snorted and skidded to a stop.

"No way!" Ron kicked again. Had he pulled the hair too tightly? That wasn't at all a problem; he immediately let it go. The thestral did nothing but slap its wings into the air, nearly knocking Ron off. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

In the distance he could hear Percy laughing. A laugh which quickly ended with a shout. So the fifty-foot rule was good for something.

"Come on, just go, I'll be nice!" Grimacing, Ron slid a hand down the scaly head. Slick. "Please?"

The thestral shook his hand away and broke into a run. In a flash they were past Percy, who was now forced to plead with the other thestral, and into a speedy curve around the lake, then across the grounds. Ron again wondered what anyone would think if they saw a racing thestral. Perhaps he should go visible again, just to make it more interesting.

And then it was into the air. Ron instinctively clutched the horse's neck. It wasn't right, it wasn't right. He had no desire to be in the air without a broom, even after yesterday's fun, and the prior two races had done nothing to change that. Forcing his eyes open, he stared down at into the school's open windows, where students milled about, oblivious to the thestral just above them. If only he had something to throw. . . the thought left him as the thestral, more used to the race than he was, pivoted toward the Quidditch field.

"Still want to switch games?" Percy had somehow managed to catch up.

"Cheater," Ron said. He forced himself to again stroke the thestral, and they dove right past a beater slamming a bludger towards an unsuspecting Seeker.

The Seeker, some younger Hufflepuff student Ron didn't know, was flying in small circles above the field, humming to herself.

He laughed. "She's gonna regret that. She should be paying attention."

"Look out!" Percy yelled.

"The girl?" She had absent-mindedly circled away, still humming the same off-key tune. "She'll be fine—"

The bludger struck Ron's thestral and ricocheted back into the beater. The thestral gave a piercing cry and shot straight up, wings beating furiously. Ron clung to it, screaming, barely aware of the astounded players whining about the invisible wall that had sprung up so suddenly.

"Let go, you idiot!"

But he couldn't let go. That would be the stupid thing to do. If he let go he'd fall and probably die. . . and a lot of ironic good that would do. And it was too late. The fifty-foot limit had been reached. Below Percy screamed as he was ripped into the air and dragged along like a fishing lure.

"Will you bloody let go?!"

Let go. Of course. He wouldn't fall, it was a bit late to worry about death, and technically he was still in the lead. But when he moved to release his hands, they wouldn't.

"Of all the—"

The thestral shrieked again as Ron was jerked back, strands of hair still twisted in his fists. It spun around like a giant black pinwheel, huge wings thrashing at Ron as he darted to avoid them. Then, with a final disgusted snort, it turned again and soared down into the woods, wings bouncing another bludger into the stunned crowd.

"Did Dumbledore put up an invisibility ceiling?" someone asked.

"Shouldn't somebody tell Madame Hooch?"

An invisible ceiling. Ron hovered just above them, head still spinning from the ride. Where did they come up with these things?

Someone with actual sense voiced Ron's thoughts. "It's not a ceiling. Didn't you see where the bludger hit?"

"Well, excuse me, but maybe all of us aren't up on our physics and geology."

"It's physics and geometry, you idiot!"

"Huh?"

"I mean, if you're talking about the angle that the ball hit the. . . whatever, it'd. . ."

"Oh, shut up."

It was like listening to Hermione. Holding his head, Ron made his way down to Percy, who had managed to climb back onto his own thestral.

"She's right," Percy said. "It would be geometry."

Ron stared at him, then shook his head. "You care?"

Percy sighed. "Well, they need something to talk about; they aren't going to finish their game."

"I think they'll get over their invisible wall idea."

"No." He pointed into the woods where the other thestral had thrown. "You weren't watching while you were flailing like a moron on the back of that thing, but your thestral kind of accidentally swallowed something in its panic."

Interrupting the geometry argument came an innocent question: "Hey, where'd the Snitch go?"

* * *

Hermione hurried through the halls, barely avoiding several violent collisions, the thick library book still clasped in her arms—had she even checked it out? She couldn't quite remember, so if she received some hex from Madame Pince. . . well, forget her. The old librarian wasn't going crazy.

But she had to be going crazy, and in some strange way she welcomed it. She had tried to lose herself in studying again, but the same thought kept coming back and hacking away at her resolve. For a time it had almost left, but then Professor Binns had strolled past, seemingly about to fall asleep from his own contagious boredom with only a greeting of an attempt at getting her name right, and it was back. Ghosts. But that was insane. Why would Ron come back as a ghost? She accepted that, but it was still morbidly entertaining to let doubt scurry just outside her thoughts. The impossible. And so it all came down to a serious question of her sanity.

"Hermione?"

She stopped. No one, during her mad scramble from the library, had bothered to address her by name.

Ginny stood back a little ways, next to an old suit of armor whistling the national anthem. She looked a little tired and pale, but no worse than lately. A night bag was slung over her shoulders. "Hermione, are you all right?"

All right? Hermione choked back the snapping reply that begged to come out. Of course she wasn't all right, and neither was Ginny, and they both should be perfectly aware of that. "I. . . yeah, I'm fine." She frowned. "Why?"

Ginny shrugged. "No reason. You just look like you swallowed a handful of pepper imps. Mm. Those sound good right now. I haven't eaten yet today."

"I thought you spent the night at home." Ginny's mother was a strict enforcer of breakfast.

"I did." She held up the night bag.

"Oh." So Hermione had missed the obvious.

"I just got back. I'm heading to the common room. Are you going there?"

"I. . . " She stared at the book in her arms. "I guess so. I'll walk with you."

Silently, the two girls started walking. It felt odd. Hermione knew she should say something, and she raked her mind for even a trivial topic, but nothing seemed appropriate. If nothing else, they had always been able to discuss boys. But that was far from right.

It wasn't until they passed a girl ghost with long silver hair just outside the common room that anything came to her. It wasn't appropriate, either, but she didn't think of that until the words had already flown from her mouth.

"Ginny, I think I saw your brother."

Ginny froze. "What?"

Well, now someone else thought she was insane. It was mildly comforting. Or not. She took a deep breath. "Back in the library. It was just for a second or two, but. . . .oh, I shouldn't be talking about this." She stared fearfully at Ginny.

Ginny stared back unblinkingly, then shook her head, red hair whipping over her face. "Okay, if this is a joke, it's not funny and I'm really surprised it's coming from you. If it's not, well, I'm afraid I have no idea what you're trying to say."

"I. . ." Her mind whirled. "I'm either insane, which I think is the truth, or Ron's haunting me."

The ghost floated past, singing loudly a Beatles song. Hermione and Ginny watched her go, wide-eyed.

"A ghost," Ginny said flatly. "You think Ron's a ghost."

"Not a ghost." It was pure insanity aloud. "He wouldn't be a ghost, he'd just be haunting—"

"Hermione, if he's haunting you, he's a ghost. I'm going with madness on your part, and I really don't want to hear this." Her voice cracked with the finals words, and she strode up the Fat Lady. "Golden snidget," she managed tearfully.

Hermione wanted to kick herself. Ginny had been holing up by herself for days and when she finally came out long enough to actually speak to someone Hermione had to toss her own delusions around. "Ginny. . . I'm sorry. I shouldn't be saying things like this."

Ginny, who was half-through the portrait hole, took a deep breath and turned around. Her brown eyes were tinged with red. "Look, I didn't mean to snap at you; I should be the one apologizing. I guess. . . " She wiped her eyes furiously and finished climbing through, Hermione right behind her. "I guess. . . I don't know."

"You wouldn't talk to anyone forever," Hermione said softly, throwing the book onto an armchair and curling up next to it. "I'm just thinking you might be doing better."

With a small shrug Ginny flopped into another chair. "I think I am. I'm not fainting anymore." She sighed. "That was embarrassing. I don't want people to think I was being this selfish loner, but. . . I really did want to be by myself. I thought it would be worse to go home."

"Was it?"

She shrugged again and sniffed. "To be honest, I don't think there was any difference. But I think it was better for Mum and Dad that I was there. I mean, Fred and George came, too." A faint smile came through. "Did you hear them talking about starting a mud fight yesterday? Wouldn't that have been fun?"

In spite of herself Hermione managed a laugh. "I think Ron might have appreciated that."

"It would have been some improvement." The tiny smile faded into a scowl.

"Ginny?"

Ginny shook her head, the scowl growing deeper. "It's. . . it's nothing. But Percy. . . ."

"Percy?" Hermione's heart skipped a beat. No one had even mentioned Percy for almost two years. . . .

"You think he would have at least come to his own brother's funeral." Ginny spoke rapidly, her words blurring into one another. "I mean, I didn't think he hated us that much. But Mum and Dad, they didn't know how to contact him or where he was or anything. But it was all over the papers, with the defeat of You-Know-Who, and I would have just thought. . ." She finished with a swear word.

"Oh . . ." Hermione wasn't sure what to say.

"It's okay," Ginny muttered. "It's not your fault he's such a stupid git. I don't care. I just wish he had been there at least for Mum. Showed some sign of maturity."

"Well. . . it's his own problem." His own problem indeed. What sort of person wouldn't go to their own brother's funeral? She suddenly felt the rage she knew Ginny must feel.

"Good."

They sat in silence for a long time. Two girl ghosts giggled softly in a dark corner of the room, lost in their own gossip.

"Maybe we should go back to the cemetery and start a mud fight," Ginny mused. "It'd make me feel better."

This time Hermione's laugh felt more real.

"What mud fight?" Harry stood nearby.

"Oh, just. . ." Hermione prepared to explain the story, but with simply a "bye" Ginny was on her feet and rushing to the girls' dormitories. Hermione stared after her, amazed. So. . . it was Harry.

Harry also watched her go, face expressionless. Then, with a sigh, he sat down in Ginny's chair. "She's still mad at me, huh?"

Hermione turned to him, almost surprised to see him there. "I don't know. . . I mean, she said she was feeling better; I actually got her to talk to me."

"She hates me." It was a statement, flat and cold.

"Harry, she doesn't hate you."

"She thinks I'm a murderer."

"Why would you kill Ron?" The words ripped from her throat, far louder than she intended. The gossiping ghosts in the corner went silent.

Harry gave a small shrug.

Head spinning, Hermione slunk back into the chair. "I don't know what's wrong with either of you." Who was she to throwing such accusations? She was the crazy one.

Harry didn't reply. He pulled out a set of gobstones and set them on the ground. "Wanna play?"

"Play?" Well, after seeing ghosts and experience insanity, she might as well. "I'd love to play."

"Okay." He carefully arranged the pieces, like he was afraid they'd break. "I keep feeling like I should be playing wizard's chess or something."

Wizard's chess. The one thing Ron could win. "You miss him."

Harry's head snapped up, his eyes flashing beneath his glasses. "Of course I miss him; he was my best friend. And you. . ." He sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm being a complete git lately."

"Harry, you've always been a git."

"Thanks."

"I guess. . . " She pulled a strand of loose hair behind her ear. "I guess it's been the three of us for years and now it's just the two of us. . . ."

They didn't notice as the ghosts snuck from the room.

* * *

Twenty minutes had passed, and the students were still unable to find the missing Snitch. Between the accusations that Geometry Boy had stolen it to prove a point about spheres or something and the theory that perhaps the invisible ceiling had absorbed it, it was a rather entertaining affair.

Ron and Percy relaxed over the stands, listening with amusement. The race had been left unfinished, what with the loss of one of the thestrals. Percy still dared to insist that he would have won. Ron didn't really care—thanks to the Bloody Baron he'd probably have plenty of more chances to prove himself. Besides, there was something much more interesting about a bunch of second year Quidditch wannabes arguing over a Snitch that was actually in the middle of some death horse's digestive track.

"Do you think there will be a fight soon?" Percy asked thoughtfully.

"Why? So you can go all prefect over them?" Ron said.

"Why would I do that. . .?" He frowned. "Well, they'd get in trouble for fighting from someone."

"And that someone could be you. Think about it. You could be the first dead prefect Hogwarts as ever had. Isn't that your dream?"

"Shut up."

Ron smiled. So he was still able to get to Percy. It was still so deliciously satisfying. "Oh, well. If they go into the woods later they'll probably find their precious Snitch."

"You're being disgusting."

"If it bothers you so much, go visible and tell them where it is."

Percy gazed at the players. "I think that might be a bit traumatizing for them."

"That's the idea." Actually, the thought of just going himself was a bit tempting. The last appearance of Ron. A chance to see just now much of a Hogwarts Quidditch legend he was. Or would the second years even know him?

"Ron!" Jillie and Cornelia flew towards them, both grinning widely.

Oh, no. "Where did you come from?"

"The common room," Jillie practically sang. "It's a bit of an emergency."

"Emergency?" Percy looked up, glasses nearly sliding down the bridge of his nose.

Cornelia choked back a laugh, nearly snorting. "Yes. But it concerns Ron. It's very important."

"Terribly so," Jillie said with a nod.

Ron stared at them. Emergency? What was that supposed to mean? For a moment panic washed through him. But. . . they were laughing. And laughing girls was never a good sign.

Cornelia was unable to conceal her laugh this time.

"Just come on," Jillie said, waving a hand barely visible beneath the oversized sleeve. Then she Vaporated, Cornelia just behind her.

Ron looked to Percy, hoping for an explanation.

"If it's an emergency. . . " Percy mused.

"But they were laughing. . . ."

Percy shrugged. "Don't ask me to explain girls."

"I think they're plotting something."

"In my experience it's worse if you don't go the first time."

"What experience have you had?" With a sigh Ron Vaporated to the Common Room.

He found himself near the ceiling, the near-empty common room beneath him, a few students scattered among the overstuffed armchairs. The first years were again running around in their bizarre game of tag.

Percy Vaporated next to him, irritation strong on his face. He looked around, frowning at the first years. "I don't see an emergency."

Jillie and Cornelia drifted past, laughing freely. Hopefully they were being invisible.

"Look down," Jillie said, pointing.

Ron followed her finger down to two students sitting on the ground between two chairs. It was Hermione and Harry. And he watched in horror as they leaned forward into a kiss.

(I feel evil.)

* * *

* * *

**SHOUT-OUTS:**

General Shout-Out to All: I'm very impressed. I put something in the last chapter that I worried might be too obvious, but no one seemed to mention it…. Teehee! Made me feel quite good about myself—in a non-selfish way. If anyone wants to be back in look… they can.

**v-babe24:** Dream had her cameo. See? Now we can do the rod n' reel! And here's the stupid chapter!!!! Grrr!! Kidding. I luv ya.

**Hiss:** Thanks for reading! Binnichan was one of my first inspirations that I had to stick in somewhere. And yeah, this probably will be a long story.

**Kaitee:** Heehee. I can't tell how Percy died. That's up to him! Thank-you so much for your comments!

**Hydraspit:** I forgive you. =)

**Starsmiles**: I'm not going to be mean to Ron just because he's a ghost. It'll all work out in the end, don't worry. Have you any inspiration for your story yet?

**Meenyrocks**: RHr is this best thing ever.

**Nanda:** Thank-you so much for your review! It was very helpful. And thanks most for being honest about the pacing. I have a lot of trouble with that, so thanks for that advice.

**HiddenFlame42:** Out of curiosity, what situation did you imagine her seeing him under?

**Hydrangea777:** Well, I'm actually studying to be a teacher, and I love the idea of mean teachers—though I don't plan to be one.

**pIPPENpIRATE:** Curse you! How dare you go to Florida without me?!

**Loonygrl90:** Wow, I made you cry?

**Deranged black kitten of doom:** May I say that I love your name? Yes, Ron will be visible more often. I noticed you also have a ghost story, and it's hysterical!

**Crystal Lightening:** Here's your cookie!

**Duj:** Ghosts on the grounds? Hmm….. I like that idea. We'll see.

**Katryn-ciardi:** Thank-you!

**Just Curious:** I despise sad endings. And your guesses… good ones! Just keep silent about them, please?

**Rosepetal13:** I'll try and get to more of your stories! I can't believe you just read the whole thing! Wow!

**Magistrix mundi:** Yes, Sirius will cameo. Thanks for being honest about the pacing. I shall work on that!

**From the Silent Planet:** Teehee. I hit the button at the wrong time constantly.

**WildMustang:** Thanks!

**Severus's bane:** Yes, he's a nutty teacher. And Ron will be stay visible longer.

**LJ Fan:** I'm going to try scaring you again later. I'm glad I'm really getting out so many emotions.

**Midnight Dove:** Hey, it's up to Percy to tell!

**Hi I'm Crazy:** Hermione might see Ron again….

**Written in Stars:** Technology is our friend! Because of technology, there will always be leaves between magnets and refridgerators!


	12. Sorry!

_Authoress' Note: I'm about to go somewhere, so I apologize that I don't have the time to do individual shout-outs before I upload this. Maybe later? I'll give you all candy instead, and I'll say that you guys have given me so much encouragement and great advice and I just love reading your thoughts! You're all wonderful! So now I'll do one big thing: I'm am a devoted Ron/Hermione shipper and I think Harry/Hermione is of the debbil. I just want you all to know that._

No, no, no! It couldn't be happening. Not his best friend, not with Hermione. It was like riding the thestral all over again as Ron shot down toward them. . . expecting to do what? He sailed right through the lip-locked pair, feeling nothing but a blast of heat. He tumbled back into the air, mind spinning.

"What the-?" He stared down at his ends, pale and transparent. Bloody. . .

"You know you can't touch them," Jillie sang, still laughing. "You can't do anything about them!"

"I don't think there's a need," Percy put in solemnly.

And there wasn't. The kiss lasted approximately one second.

Hermione and Harry reeled back from one another in something akin to disgust. Hermione even had the audacity to wipe her mouth on the sleeve of her robe.

"Dang," Cornelia muttered.

Hands trembling, Harry took a deep breath. "Wow. I. . . I don't think that's going to work."

Hermione nodded vigorously. "No, it's not. That was stupid." She paused, staring at the floor. "No offense."

"None taken. Sorry about that."

"It's not your fault. But no more experimenting."

"Yeah." Harry sucked in more air, looking ready to faint. "Who's idea was that, anyway?"

She gave a weak shrug. "I don't know."

"Do you think anyone saw that?"

The first-years were still playing tag. One tripped over a book someone had left on the ground. Suffice it to say they were oblivious to the world.

Hermione glanced at Cornelia and Jillie. They were visible, Ron realized; it was getting difficult to tell whether other ghosts were visible to the living or not. Percy must be invisible, or Hermione would have certainly done something. As it was, only a distant expression came over her face, one he recognized for when she was thinking hard. But then it passed. "You won't say anything, will you?" she asked.

Jillie grinned and shook her head. Cornelia burst into flame, and Hermione screamed.

"Your secret's safe," Cornelia said from the midst of her fire.

Harry made a strange noise-choking back a laugh-as Hermione collapsed against the chair, eyes wide.

"I hate it when they do weird things," she gasped.

He didn't do any weird things, did he? Ron wondered. She wouldn't hate him as a ghost. . . no. He shut the thought from his mind. There would be no more appearing to Hermione. Once was enough. She wouldn't have any reason to freak out. Which was the most he could expect for her, he supposed. At least she wasn't snogging Harry. He stared at the two for a moment as Harry collected up the gob stones, then floated back up to Percy and the girls. "What just happened?"

"I thought your wonderful best friend was trying to steal your girlfriend," Percy began in bewilderment. "Which is hardly kind since you just died a few days ago. But. . . I'm really confused."

Cornelia, now flame-free, sighed dramatically as she dumped ashes from her satchel. "It's completely obvious-"

Jillie cleared her throat. "They're invisible," she whispered. "Hero boy and Ron's girlfriend are going to think you're talking to your-"

"They can hear you right now," Percy said tersely.

"For heaven's sake." Flames raced down Cornelia's arm. "I'm just going to go invisible then."

Ron watched carefully, expecting some subtle change. There was none.

"There. Now, as I was saying, Jillie."

Jillie smiled.

Percy sighed. "Get on with it."

"Now, as I was saying, it's completely obvious that Harry and Hermione are a little upset. Very upset."

"He did just die."

"Hush. Anyway, I take it the three of you were close, and now it's just those two. And they are friends and have at least those feelings-utterly platonic, of course-for each other. Perhaps they thought that them as a couple was the only solution, the only thing left since you were gone."

"Or perhaps a way to comfort each other," Jillie said thoughtfully as she watched Hermione and Harry. "Sometimes people, when they're in mourning, can be a little crazy."

Ron stared at both girls, not at all understanding what they were saying. "So they had to make out?"

"They didn't. . . "

"Well, they did kiss," said Percy.

Ron whirled at him, fuming. "And I suppose you think this is funny?"

Percy gazed back at him, calm. "In an ironic sort of way. You've fancied Hermione Granger for years, and yet Potter kisses her before you do."

And he never would kiss her. "It didn't last that long."

"So it goes from a full-blown snogging session to a little peck?"

There was something in Percy's expression, a subtle marking of evidence that whatever genes had gone to Fred and George might just have left an echo in other places. Yes, Ron thought, he was being made fun of again.

"You know, back outside, with the thestrals, I was actually having fun for awhile."

Percy almost laughed.

"You went back to the thestrals?" Jillie asked. She swooped to Ron, till her face was just inches from his. "Did you touch them again?"

"You saw the thestrals before?" Percy sounded almost hurt.

The thestrals again. . . Ron could imagine the one in the woods, probably choking on the snitch. What a delight. "That's why I said I knew they could be touched."

"You were surprised when you told me about it," Jillie whined, turning away from Ron so fast her cloak whipped his face.

"Well. . . They're just thestrals."

"You didn't talk to me about them." Cornelia's turn to complain.

"That's because you're a Ravenclaw ghost while Ron and I are Gryffindor ghosts."

Now he was a house ghost. Wonderful.

"So Gryffindor is better than Ravenclaw?"

Ron returned his attention to Harry and Hermione, who now sat on chairs-separate chairs-talking quietly so he could barely hear them over the girls' argument. Something about a wave of cold just after the kiss-that-didn't-happen. He felt heat, and they felt cold. What was that supposed to mean? But that pondering didn't stay with him long. As he watched them, sitting feet apart, all he could see was that kiss. So it hadn't been a real one. So there was nothing to worry about. Was there? What Percy had said was correct: Harry had kissed Hermione first. That wasn't fair.

"What's not fair?" Jillie asked. She was using Cornelia's own hood in an attempt to suffocate the other girl.

He hadn't realized he had spoken aloud. "Er. . . "

"Your friends?"

"Yes. They're just friends." That was the truth. "They don't like each other like that. Never did."

"Ron, we just discussed this," Percy said.

"So Harry can't kiss anyone?" Jillie pouted.

Harry kissing? He had admitted to snogging Cho, two years before. "I never said that."

With a snarl, Cornelia managed to rip her head back. "Ron, we're very sorry. We shouldn't have made you watch that." She smiled. "But it was entertaining for us. And you're right; I can't see those two together. Even though I knew they were going to kiss."

"Which is why we came and got you," said Jillie.

"But Harry. . . I feel bad for him. I'm in Ravenclaw, I don't know what goes on here. Does he have a girlfriend?"

None since Cho. Ron shook his head, wondering what Cornelia was getting at.

Percy hovered back, watching Harry and Hermione with only mild interest. "Ron's been trying to set him up with our sister Ginny for years."

"That's not true!"

"Well, maybe not set them up per say, but. . ." Percy sighed and shook his head. "You were as protective of Ginny as the rest of us. So you never said or even did anything. But I heard Mum talking about it sometimes. . . before I left. She reckoned it was sweet, that you wouldn't let anyone date Ginny. Except, of course, your best friend."

Ron opened his mouth, prepared to deny it. But Percy was right. Right again, in that sniveling ability he had to detect everything that went on. The ultimate prefect. And he was right about Ginny. All the weird boyfriends she had gone through-well, Dean Thomas had been all right, but that Michael Corner. . . Ron had hated him without knowing him. It had to be a natural big brother instinct, to protect a little sister. Now that he thought about it, the only guy he could imagine dating Ginny without desiring to rip his head off was Harry. He closed his mouth and stared at the floor.

"That is so sweet!" Cornelia exclaimed, fresh fire licking the edges of her cloak. She brushed them away, a smile near filling her face. "So are you going to finish?"

"Finish what?"

Jillie and Cornelia exchanged significant looks, then broke into laughter.

"I have no interest in being part of whatever you're plotting," Percy said darkly.

"No, no, it's not really a plot, exactly," Jillie replied, shaking her head. "But Harry Potter does need a girlfriend, especially since he's attempting to court his friend. Quite pathetic."

It sounded like a plot to Ron; he just couldn't figure out exactly what it entailed. Percy, however, seemed to understand almost immediately. He gawked at Jillie and Cornelia, glasses nearly falling as he jerked around.

"You want that murderer to be Ginny's boyfriend?"

Ron had another urge to hit him. "He's not a murderer!"

Percy snorted. "He let you die."

No, that wasn't true. Harry had not let him die. He hadn't even been supposed to be following Harry to the cemetery. It was suddenly hard to remember, that night. Harry had told him to run, and he had, technically. And he had managed to at least distract Voldemort during the process. "It was my own fault!"

"Ginny doesn't think so."

Now that was true, from what Ron had seen of his sister. "She. . ." He couldn't think of a response.

Jillie frowned thoughtfully. "That might make things harder."

"You're still going through with this?" Percy asked.

"Of course! It sounds like fun, and we haven't done anything like it forever."

The actuality of their plot suddenly hit Ron. "You want to set them up?!"

Every eye turned to stare at him.

"Yes, Ron, we want to set them up," Jillie stated, somewhat amused. "It's fun for us. And we haven't gotten to do it for a few decades."

Cornelia nodded happily. "Another game of Cupid. What was the last couple we did? It was more you, it always is. They were in your house, Jillie, that redhead and that boy that practically stalked her?"

"Now they were adorable, once she stopped hating him." Jillie laughed. "We'll need your help, you do realize."

"But. . . ." Mortal fear struck Ron. "But I don't know if. . ."

A growling sound issued from Percy's throat as he readjusted his glasses. "I'm not being part of some matchmaking game. Especially not with Potter."

"What do you have against him?" Ron snapped.

"A lot," he shot back. "Besides, I think we have more important things to worry about than some girls' slumber party fetish." He held up his right hand, cloak sleeve slipping down to reveal the rope. "I don't know if you've forgotten about these, Ron, but I would like them off."

Of course. Ron gazed at his own rope. "I want them off, too."

"Good."

Ron waited, expecting more. "Do you have any more ideas?"

". . . no."

Jillie was rambling on about something, so loudly it surprised Ron that her voice hadn't carried through whatever invisibility process hid them. "We should get what's-her-face to help. That drowning victim. Prudence Tootenbawker, I believe her name was. She's in your house, Cornelia. Cornelia?"

Cornelia was watching Ron and Percy. "Huh?"

Percy stared back at her a moment, then turned away, a silvery blush slowly going over his face.

"I think we should make Prudence Tootenbawker should help," Jillie said more testily.

"Her?" Cornelia frowned. "I don't dare speak to her. She's. . ."

"You never speak to anyone I don't know. What about her?"

"She's a psychopath! She's mean!" Cornelia shook her head. "Do you have any idea what name she likes to be called by?"

"Oh, yes. Dream Oracle."

"Dream Oracle?" Ron repeated. "What kind of name is that?"

"Dream. Oh, yeah." Percy frowned. "She's a Ravenclaw. Drowned in the lake about twenty-something years ago."

"I think she was pushed," Cornelia said delicately. "But I don't dare talk to her. She's. . . I don't want her helping. We've never used her before."

Jillie sighed. "Fine. I don't care. Well, start throwing ideas at me."

"You can go to the spirit world."

Jillie stared. "What good will that do?"

Cornelia blushed. "I mean. . . Percy and Ron. You could get help there."

"Sir Nick did mention some council," Percy agreed.

"Yeah, and he also mentioned someone would be in this world," Ron said. "The spirit world? Isn't that full of. . .ghosts?"

"And what are we here?"

"But. . . it's the world of the dead."

"Ron." Percy's voice slipped into his classic prefect tone. "That's what you are. Cornelia, do you know anything about it?"

She shrugged. "I never bothered to go."

"Can we return to the Cupid game?" Jillie asked impatiently.

Ron glared at her. It took him a moment to realize that Percy was glaring as well. "I don't want to get involved."

"That's what you say now," she said with a wink. "Oh, well. Have fun getting to the spirit world. Cornelia, I think I have an idea." She soared to the other side of the common room, her oversized cloak trailing behind her like a floating silver curtain.

Curtain. . .

"Good luck," Cornelia said before joining Jillie.

Percy swore under his breath and shook his head. "Well, that was exciting. Watching Harry and Hermione kiss and listen to girls plotting."

"Please don't mention the kiss." The image shot back before his eyes, and he shuddered.

"Sorry. So now what? Who do you think we should talk to about the spirit world?"

Percy was actually asking him for advice. Ron thought he'd never see the day. "I don't care."


	13. Hazards of Broccoli

_Happy Fourth of July, everyone! At least those of you who celebrate it. And if you're not in the U.S., heck, I hope it's a good day anyway. In celebration, I'll put shout outs first!_

Amelia Glitter: I hope to make the spirit world intriguing.

cry missing: Yes, giggly teenage ghosts can do damage. And yes, Percy does have other things against Harry. Which shall be revealed in time.

Crystal Lightning: You're right about one thing, dearie, and partially right on the other.

Hi I'm Crazy: Glad you like the idea!

Hydrangea777: Glad to make you girls laugh. I'm so sad you ended your story, though!

Icy Dragon Claws: You're counting? Ee!

Just Curious: Don't worry, I live for happy endings. This will have one. Hopefully I'll get rid of the underlying tears by the end. Though it will always be sad that Ron is dead.

krenya-alenak: Thanks for reading this! No, Ron isn't the brightest crayon in the box. Poor boy is stressed. But he will appear to Hermione. Can't keep those two separate.

Lady Meriadoc: You know... you may have just inspired me! Thank-you!

Lady Peregrine: Yup, they set up Lily and James.

LJ Fan: I actually felt dirty writing that bit of H/Hr. Sorry again!

loonygrl90: No! They can't enjoy it! They can't!

meenyrocks: Yup. That was Lily and James.

Midnight Dove: Gasp! Puppy eyes! That just might make me give in soon!

pIPPENpIRATE: Gasp! Does he?!

Pline: I actually think Percy's making more of an attempt at being peaceful than Ron is.

Reeter Skeeter: Ron will appear to Hermione again, don't worry! As for that ship...=)

severus's bane: I'm glad you like Percy... he's kind of hard to do! He as a lot of issues, so... And it is partially his fault his family doesn't know he's dead. And he does know how to go visible, but really doesn't dare do it in Hogwarts.

Siriusly Disturbed: Dude! I would like to be a ghost! Well.. not any time soon... but... Anywho, thanks for your comments, and I'm really enjoying your fic!

Tru Lys: You know... that'd be convenient. But would Peeves really stoop to murder? I know Ron would but....

V-babe24: Haha! Oh, and sorry this is a day later than I told you!

Written in Stars; Thankyee!

_On with the story! Also... I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter, so please be honest and give advice if you can._

* * *

The more Ron thought about it, the more pathetically obvious Cornelia's suggestion about the spirit world became. Of course, he had considered it before, vaguely; it had been some point of conversation. But with the hypothetical council representative in this world and Percy flipping through book after book in an attempt to find council specifics, Ron had never really felt a need to seriously consider the spirit world. But now, now that it mattered, no one seemed to know a thing about it.

"I told you," Nearly Headless Nick repeated. "Most ghosts, most of them around Hogwarts, anyway, have never been to the spirit world. It just so happens to be a rare thing."

"But you're a House Ghost," Percy insisted. "I thought that might give you some knowledge. And you're the one who mentioned the council to us."

Nick gave a dramatic shrug, one that would have sent his head sprawling into the tables of the presently empty Great Hall where he drifted along with Ron and Percy, had it been properly detached. "My role pertains simply to ghosts of Gryffindor, and unless there's trouble going on I'm hardly more than a mascot there. As for the council. . . " He forced a cough, a strange sound coming from a ghost.

"Oh, no," Ron muttered.

Percy nearly collided with Peeves, who was rushing around the room taping toilet paper to the walls. "This council is more than just heresay, isn't it?" He was nearly pleading.

Nick blinked, taken back. "Of course it's real! At least, as far as I know, from what I've been told."

"What?"

"Haven't you even listened to anything I've said, Percy? I've never been to the spirit world. When one becomes a ghost. . . the spirit world just isn't much of an option. I'm not saying you can't go, but. . ."

Ron gazed lazily at the rather-decorative toilet paper streamer arrangement that was practically flying from Peeves' hands. Almost like that bloody rope around his wrist. If there was no way to get to the spirit world and end this. . . "I don't like the sound of that but, Nick."

"I'm just saying that very few ghosts ever bother to travel back and forth."

"Sounds like an excuse to me."

Percy sent Ron a withering look, than turned back to Nick. "So you've no idea how to ge there?"

"The curtain," Ron said without thinking.

The others turned to him, surprised.

"The curtain?" Percy echoed.

"In the Department of Mysteries." It had been two years ago and was rather hard to remember. But he could still see it in his mind. The room, the veil set on the platform in the middle. According to everyone, Sirius Black had fallen through it. And now he was considered dead. The idea had struck him several days earlier, when Cornelia had originally mentioned the spirit world, but as usual he paid no attention. "I think it's a gateway to the spirit world. Or something." He explained about Sirius.

"A veil that kills people?" Percy asked dubiously. "Ron, I don't know where you get that idea."

Nick actually dared laugh. "I believe I've already spoken to Harry Potter about this. I'm sorry, but while certain wizards in that department are rumored to study death, I highly doubt they've created a gateway."

"And what makes you so certain?"

The Grey Lady, long dress trailing wispily behind her, floated through the wall. She smiled, a look of kindness somehow startling, and nodded at Nick. "From what I know of you, Sir Nicolas, you've avoided this sort of discussion for centuries."

The laughter died from him as he fingered his severed neck. "Well, excuse me for being a bit sensitive about death, Rebeccah."

"I excuse you, but that doesn't give you the right to flat out lie to these young men."

Nick's mouth fell open. "I. . . Rebeccah, you're not actually saying. . . Some curtain. . ."

She waved a gloved hand, motioning him to silence. "I'm not saying anything; I doubt I know much more than you. But I do understand that Professor Binns---one of the more recently dead among us--has actually spoken on the matter. And probably visited the Ministry during his life. Still. . . if living wizards are studying such a phenomenon... "

"We can go through it?" Ron asked.

She smiled sadly at him and shook her head. "I wouldn't recommend it."

"But you just mentioned it," Percy said, floating closer to her. "You just gave us more help than Nick did, and surely the Ministry is capable of experimenting with such things."

"Oh, yes, the all-powerful Ministry," Ron muttered.

Peeves raced past, toilet paper still rolling endlessly and dropping right through Ron and Percy. "Icksy Minstry, icksy Minstry," he sang off-key. "Icksy Minstry and its Curtain o' Death! Sigh. And it would be so easy for a wee ghostie to go to that particular room. . . "

"Don't encourage them, Peeves!" the Grey Lady scolded.

All she received was a raspberry and an entire roll of toilet paper dropped through her.

She swore and glared at the poltergeist, her eyes going suddenly dark. "Just for that, I'm going to insist these young men go to the Ministry and see just how icky it is, Peeves!"

A choppy laugh had sprang from Ron's mouth before he caught himself. Seeing the illustrious Grey Lady of Ravenclaw acting so... childish. The dark glare immediately went to him, and he shut up.

"Er, Ma'am," Percy began nervously. "Are you really suggesting we go?"

"I. . ." With a silvery blush she forced her face back into utter calm. "I'm just. . ."

"Saying that they'll go!" Peeves scooped up the fallen paper and quickly created a web in a corner.

"They'll do no such thing!" Nick exclaimed. "They're in my house, and even if there is this veil. . . it might be dangerous."

"And what will it do?" Ron asked.

"You really don't want to be an experiment?"

"Percy could be an experiment."

The Grey Lady gave an amused laugh. "Fine. I meant no offense, Sir Nicholas. They are in your house, and you should have that authority over them. I'll give them no help. In fact, I suggest they not go."

A quick glance spoken plainly that Nick was getting flustered. "You just said you'd give no help."

"I'm just saying. . ."

"And I'm saying they should go!" The words were out before he realized what he had said. "I mean."

The Grey Lady shook her head, frowning. "I can't believe this. Such irresponsibility. Well, Nicholas, if you think they should go, they are in your house."

"I think we should," Ron said, glancing down at the rope around his wrist. One trip to the spirit world and it would be off. "Thanks, Nick!"

"You are sure, Sir Nick?" Percy asked. "Ron, I think he's confused."

But at that time the Grey Lady was scolding an extremely flustered Nearly Headless Nick, who kept glancing back at Ron and Percy, panic and a silent command to stay written clearly on his face.

It wasn't enough for Ron. Knowing Nick, he would definitely delay them, especially if he displayed his recent temper. "Let's just go," he urged. "It won't matter."

"To the Ministry?" Percy's eyes widened in. . . something. Fear?

"Yes, to the Ministry. That's where the Veil is."

"I'm not sure I believe you on this."

"And I thought you believed you knew everything about the Ministry." Much of the night was still so blurry, but he could still at least remember the halls of the Ministry; how many times had he visited his dad there? Hopefully the memory was clear enough to Vaporate.

It was. Slowly the Great Hall faded from sight, along with the still-arguing Percy who would probably be dragged along soon enough and something he couldn't be sure of. . . the Grey Lady smiling at him knowingly while Peeves flew around singing a rude song at the top of his lungs.

* * *

The Ministry was almost empty when Ron and Percy arrived, only a few wizards and witches strolling around with wands and stacks of parchment. Percy was still doubtful of what they were going to do.

"Nick's right, Ron," he kept saying. "You don't know anything about this curtain of yours. I've never even heard of it."

"Well. . . someone supposedly fell through it, and was considered dead." It didn't seem right to bring up Sirius Black to Percy.

"So? It's probably one of those silly rumors you like so much." Percy swore under his breath and stared dismally down from the corner where they waited at the passing workers. "Why am I trusting you on this?"

Ron followed his gaze down to where a witch at a desk was picking her nose. "You don't seem to be trusting me. And you were the one mad because I wouldn't search through your stupid books with you."

"One of those books might have actually said something about this council!"

"That's not what you said earlier."

"I. . ." A small, sheepish grin slid onto his face. "It was worth a shot."

"Not really."

The grin vanished. "So what if there is no veil?"

A tiny spark lit off inside of Ron. "You were practically begging me to help you!"

"Yes, but when you finally come up with something, it's has to be some supposed Ministry conspiracy."

"You're just jealous because they never told you about it." It had been so long since he had really taunted Percy-almost four days since --and it felt good. "And you were so up there in the Minstry or whatever."

He sniffed. "I'd prefer not to discuss that."

"Why not? You were always so eager to before. That is, before you died and sadly they wouldn't employ a ghost."

"The Ministry had a handle on things."

"On what?" The spark grew hotter. "Are you saying that they were controlling things so well that they were suddenly more important than everyone else and could suddenly control the entire wizarding world?"

Percy's eyes flashed. "You're not trying to bring up what I did to Mum and Dad again, are you?"

Ron stared back at him. The desire to taunt was gone. But. . . no, it was pointless. "You just brought it up," he said, forcing his voice not to rise. "But you said you'd prefer not to discuss it." Against his conscious will the taunting returned.

Percy shook his head, face like stone, and turned to watch the workers, who were slowly beginning to leave. "That's right, I'd prefer not to discuss it. And I also think we should just leave."

"Why? Don't you like the Ministry? I thought you missed it?"

"I also prefer not to discuss that."

Yes, the taunting desire was back. "I thought you wanted to be with your precious Fudge."

"Ron, shut up."

"I bet you were haunting the Ministry before you were forced back to Hogwarts. I bet that's why you appeared to Fudge. Because you missed him so much. And wanted to work for him."

"I'm serious, just shut up."

He laughed and shook his head. "Oh, Mr. Cornelius," he sang. "I want to be your devoted slave for eternity. . ."

With a single quick motion Percy shoved him into and through a wall.

"What was that for?!" Ron shouted, springing back out.

"I prefer not to discuss Fudge, either."

"That's amazing." Yes, it really was amazing. Now that Ron thought about it, Percy had been eerily silent about Fudge and the Ministry. He wasn't quite sure what that meant, but. . . "You prefer not to discuss many things, don't you?"

Percy nodded, not meeting Ron's gaze. "That's right. You're getting smarter."

"Like your death?"

"Exactly."

Percy's mysterious death. . . he hadn't seriously meant to bring it up, but. . . "So how did you die?"

He was met by a questioning stare. "I just said. . ."

"Well, I think you should discuss it. Even if just to him." Ron pointed at a random wizard yawning as he tried to lock up a door.

"I'm not telling some stranger how I died!"

"I'm your brother." Though it hardly felt that way. "You could tell me, then."

"No!" Percy bit his lip and drifted down a ways.

Ron inched along. "Tell me."

"No!"

"You know you want to."

"It's none of your business!" More a snarl than anything else.

The ferocity was sudden, and Ron drew back. "Huh? How is it not my business?" Another stupid question. "How come Mum and Dad don't know?"

"Because it's not their business, either." His voice refused to soften.

"So just because you won't speak to them means. . ."

"Exactly."

Ron stared at Percy, a silver huddle in his cloak against the dimming Ministry hall. Percy was serious about not discussing this, and Ron had clearly touched on something. And yet. . . it made him all the more curious. Well, it could wait, perhaps. He waited, wondering how to bring the topic up. But nothing that wouldn't send Percy into another tantrum came to mind. "I can't believe we're just sitting here," he finally said. "We're ghosts, we can head in there any time we want."

Percy didn't look at him. " And that's assuming that there is such a room."

"Of course there is."

He almost seemed ready to argue, but instead shook his head and continued staring down into the hall.

Ron held up his right hand. Perhaps it was his imagination, but the rope glowed almost more brightly. "Let's go find it." It would be a search; that night had been such a haze that he really didn't remember anything. So he decided to just aim through random floors and walls and hope for the best. He awaited the resisting tug from Percy, but nothing came.

It felt rather good, he decided. Himself leading the way, Percy following along-bitterly, but still following along. But as they passed rooms and corridors with no sign of the circle of doors that was one of the few things he could distinctly remember, the situation became awkward.

Finally, Percy spoke.

To complain, Ron thought, grimacing.

"It was a few months after the Ministry announced You-Know-Who was back," Percy said softly, almost weakly. "At first, Fudge was trying to work with Dumbledore, but. . . I guess he was still afraid that he'd lose control. He was afraid of even the possibility of a civil war, I don't know. But after awhile. . . well, I suppose you know how corrupted the Ministry became."

Percy admitting the Ministry of Magic was corrupted?

"Fudge kept us all close, using us in the upper offices of the Ministry to work against You-Know-Who and his Death Eaters. And he became a bit fanatical about it. I. . ." Percy stopped, and Ron felt a slight tug at his rest for a moment before Percy continued forward. "Well, first Fudge stopped working with Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix. I don't know if you can believe this, but it was actually getting scary in the Ministry. So I. . . I sent some things to the Order."

This time Ron stopped, and whirled around to stare at his brother. Not Percy. . . "What are you saying?"

His question was ignored, and Percy kept talking. "It was anonymous, of course. Well. . . Fudge found out. And I wasn't the only one. Other people were doing things like that. Fudge considered it betrayal, considered us traitors. So. . . one night he invited me to dinner with some other officials. I was already suspicious. And apparently he's not that good at poisons, because it was pretty obvious in taste. Especially on the steamed broccoli. I put it in my mouth, and I could really taste the poison, but. . . I guess I panicked. . ." He sighed, and met Ron's eyes.

Ron's mind spun. It couldn't be. "You choked to death?"

Percy frowned, blushing silver. "Well. . . ."

"You choked on a piece of broccoli?"

"I'm sure the poison might have done something," he said defensively.

Ron couldn't keep back his laughter. "But you said you panicked, which suggests that you choked. . ." It was too much. "So that's how you died?"

"See why I preferred not to discuss it?" Percy's expression was almost hurt.

"I can see why." It was perhaps the most wonderful thing Ron had heard that day. "So Fudge murdered you. No, he didn't. He tried to poison you, but apparently that didn't do it, so. . . Wow, my death was so much better than yours."

"So now we're comparing deaths?"

"Well, not that I know yours. . . " Still laughing, he slipped through a wall, Percy grumbling behind him. "Wait."

The wall exited into a large room, circular and lined with doors.

Percy appeared behind Ron and gasped. "I've never been down here. . .the Department of Ministries." He was suddenly reverent, for someone who had choked on broccoli."

"Now do you believe me?"

The reverence turned into a scowl. "I still see no room with a veil."

Which door had it been? Ron thought hard, then popped through one. No such luck. It was actually a closet. The next room was no help, either. At least the uselessness of doors sped things up.

"I'm not impressed," Percy said dryly, waiting patiently in the circle's center in a pointed attempt at not helping.

"Oh, go choke on broccoli," Ron shot back, entering the next room. "Unless, of course. . ." His voice trailed off.

The deep pit, circled with seats. The raised platform in the room's center. And on it. . . the Veil, black material waving gently in the still air.

"Ron, if you say one more word-" Percy's threat was never made. He appeared in the room, and his eyes fell immediately on the Veil. "Oh."

"That's it? That's all you can say?"

"What do you want me to say?"

Ron glanced back at the Veil, then at Percy. Such satisfaction. If only he could be allowed to roll in it. "I don't know. How about 'Oh, Ron, I'm so sorry I didn't believe you'. That'd be great."

Ignoring him, Percy soared down to the platform. "This has been here? How long?"

As if Ron would know. He joined Percy at the platform.

"And it leads to the spirit world? Are you sure?"

Harry had explained it to Ron. Once. But from all he had heard. . . no matter what, he didn't want to fail in front of Percy. "Yes."

Percy held a hand tentatively toward the material, though not actually touching it. "Why does it move?"

"That's the Ghost Fairy flapping her wings, Percy."

"Very funny. So. . . we just go through it?" Frowning, he circled the Veil. "This can't be safe."

Safe? Ron laughed again. "What's it going to do to us?"

Percy shot another you're-an-idiot look. "Ron, this is death we're discussing. If wizards are actually studying it, then it's in research mode, and it can't be safe."

"But. . . you're dead! You already suffered through vegetables. What will a curtain do?"

"You just can't. . ."

But his own words had just hit him. He was a ghost. He was dead, and nothing else could be able to kill him. And the same went for Percy. The Veil. . .that had only been fatal to the living Sirius Black. But now, it really was just a curtain that couldn't hurt either of them. He hoped. Smirking, he shoved Percy into it.


	14. Random Dead People

_Sorry for not updating for two weeks, but I'm taking far more credits in two months than is healthy. So be glad you're getting this. Also, I realize that this chapter leaves some questions hanging, but they shall be answered in time._

* * *

It was quite satisfying to hear Percy scream as he disappeared behind the pulsating black cloth. Ron smiled to himself, imagining what horrors might be waiting there. Of course, he knew perfectly well he'd have to follow sooner or later. Of all the unfair things. . . why couldn't Percy do this alone? Still, he took a habitual breath of air he didn't need, closed his eyes, and slid through the curtain.

It was like ice, a sharp blade of ice cutting right through him. He gasped, his eyes flinging open. The curtains were gone, along with their icy feel and he was surrounded by darkness. Not as if someone had turned out the light darkness, but as if someone had taken a knife and gouged his eyes out. He spun, hoping to see something, and only felt a dizzying loss of balance as he fought for something to cling to. Of course, he was growing use to not touching anything. But this sensation was different, like he was hopelessly lost. No wonder Percy had screamed.

Percy. . . Ron calmed himself enough to listen. Nothing. Just unearthly silence. Where was Percy?

He had barely time to wonder when a gigantic sphere of light swirled out of nowhere, threatening to envelope him like some killer meteor. He shouted and closed his eyes, waiting for it to pass through him. And then. . ..

BAM! He struck something hard. Something hard, painful, and completely tangible.

"Ow," he murmured. It felt almost like falling off his broom during a Quidditch match onto the grass. Back when he had been alive. He wasn't going to experience that anymore. . . Something pleasantly warm tickled against his face, and he reached out a hand to feel exactly what he had crashed into. Rough, bumpy, grassy. . . He opened his eyes.

He was lying in a field of grass. As far as he could see, there was nothing but the field under a dazzling blue sky and an occasional tree. And Percy, lying about fifty feet away and gingerly rubbing a bump on his head.

"Bloody," Ron said, sitting up and yanking out a blade of grass to stare at. "Where the hell are we?"

"I don't think this is hell," Percy replied stiffly, looking around with restrained curiosity. "Hell's not supposed to have fluffy white clouds. Of course, that just might be what they want you to think. But why would I be in hell?" He frowned at Ron. "You pushed me?"

"So you think you're in hell because I pushed you?"

Percy shook his head, frown deepening. "I think you might go to hell for that."

Ron allowed himself a laugh. "Not bad, Perce. Not bad at all." He crumpled the blade of grass between his fingers and let it drop back to the ground. Instantly it straightened itself out and jumped back into the earth. "I guess. . . I guess this is it. The spirit world."

"That's right!" exclaimed a new voice. "You've officially passed on to the other side."

An instinctive wave of horror that he couldn't quite place came over Ron. He turned around to see a man strolling across the field towards them. He was short, middle-aged, but with an impressive head of red hair.

"So wonderful to see you both again," the man said happily. "I mean, it's been years. I do regret that you both died so young, but those things do happen."

"Uncle Bilius?" Percy asked dubiously, eyes widening behind his glasses.

"Oh, no." That's where he recognized the voice.

"So you do remember me!" Bilius said. He was now just before them, black robe floating just above the grass. "I suppose I didn't die that long ago, so I shouldn't be too surprised, but it's still flattering just the same."

Ron stared at Percy, hoping he would do something about the old dead relative who had suddenly popped up. Percy just shook his head. "Er. . . what are you doing here?"

Bilius frowned. "I thought that would be obvious." Then he burst out laughing. "After all, I am dead and this is the spirit world."

The man was so bizarre that Ron felt almost tempted to join the laughter.

"Oh, just let it be, Bilius! You're driving them nuts." From above swooped down a second man on a broom, cloak fanning out behind him. "You're driving me nuts. On the bright side they'll never let you do the greetings, relative or not." The man hopped gracefully to the ground and pushed off his hood. A handsome and very familiar face smiled at Ron. "So you had to go and get yourself killed, eh?"

"Sirius!" Ron heard himself shout.

Behind him Percy let out a swear word.

But Ron didn't care. It was Sirius Black, standing right before him. But at the same time it wasn't. During the time Ron had known the man, he had always been an escaped convict, starved, desperate, and barely sane. But this man before him was different. Healthier, calmer, brighter, and some how more Sirius than he had ever been before.

Sirius laughed, his dark eyes sparkling. "Hello, Ron. It really is good to see you. I just didn't think I would be seeing you nearly this soon." The humor left his face. "So it was Voldemort. That really is terrible. I'm sorry."

Since he had died, Ron had received several bits of sympathy from various people. But those had been almost in fascination, like Ron was some sort of minor celebrity for getting killed by the Dark Lord. Yet when Sirius said it, he was sincere, like he was actually sorry. It was an interesting idea. Ron felt himself blush. "It's okay," he muttered. "Not your fault."

"You-Know-Who, eh?" Bilius mused. "Yeah, I think your great-grandmother said something about that. I didn't think much of it."

"Harry beat him," Ron said to Sirius, ignoring his uncle. "He was fantastic."

"That's what I heard," Sirius replied, smiling again, almost sadly. "How I would have loved to have seen it."

Of course. Sirius had deserved to be there. As much as Ron liked Sirius, it was Harry that was Sirius' godson, and Ron felt rather awkward at trying to assure Sirius. "I don't think he would have wanted you there."

"How like Harry."

Percy was ogling Sirius, mouth hanging open. "You really are Sirius Black?"

After all the discussion, the comment seemed utterly pointless. Sirius winked at Ron, then nodded. "I am," he said cheerfully. "And you are Percy Weasley. The one that worked for the Ministry. No offense, but those people didn't do a very good job of catching me."

Percy echoed the nod, still dazed. Ron almost expected him to suddenly whirl and around and take off running in terror. "Ron was saying you weren't really didn't massacre all those people but. . . "

"Perhaps your brother lied?"

He gave at tiny scream, eyes jumping to Ron.

Ron and Sirius laughed.

Strange. Ron really hadn't had anyone to laugh with for awhile….

"Very funny." Percy swallowed back his panic, his face glowing red. "Well, the Ministry isn't all the great at a lot of things. . ."

"Like poisoning," Bilius put in. "Yes, we all heard about that _tragic _incident." He smirked.

Sirius shook his head and actually offered Percy his hand, which Percy, after a moment of hesitation, shook. "Well, Percy, it is nice to finally meet you. And I did hear about what you did for the Order."

Percy reddened again. "That wasn't really anything. . ."

Bilius gave an impatient sigh and kicked at a patch of grass. "Well, this is turning out to be just dandy for my first time greeting anyone. Thank-you, Sirius, for butting in. When Pete gets back I'm going to. . ."

"Pete doesn't care, Bilius!" Sirius snapped. "And Ron is also a very close friend of mine, so I think I get just as much credit to greet him, and I'm sure Pete would agree with me?"

"Who's Pete?" Ron asked.

"St. Peter," Sirius explained. "He's usually the one that lets everyone in, but every so often he has these meetings, so they close the pearly gates, send everyone here, and let family members and whatever greet the newbies outright."

"Newbies?" Percy echoed in distaste. "You call dead people newbies?"

Both Sirius and Bilius stared blankly at him. "Why not?" the latter asked.

Percy shook his head.

"So what is this place?" Ron asked, gesturing at the field. "I mean, this isn't it?"

"It's going to be the new Quidditch field," Sirius said happily.

"You guys have a Quidditch field?" A wave of jealousy passed over Ron. Of all the shallow things to miss from the world of the living, how pathetic it was that he had to miss Quidditch! His fingers suddenly itched to hold a broomstick. Just one quick flight. . . The Spirit World apparently had a Quidditch field. Why couldn't there be one he could have?

"This will actually be the third. The Muggles just love the game and want to play as well, so we have to build more Quidditch fields."

"Muggles?" Percy looked around, as if expecting to see some mundane non-wizard approaching him. "You have Muggles here?"

"Of course!" Bilius exclaimed, offense written over his face. "We all go to the same place. Unless you go to hell, of course. But both wizard and Muggle go there as well."

"You should come see Raphael Stadium," Sirius said, ignoring Bilius and Percy and focusing on Ron with surprising friendliness. "It's the biggest field, and is really fantastic. You could play there, even."

Play Quidditch?! He opened his mouth to give an enthusiastic yes, but Percy shook his head.

"Sorry, but this is hardly the time for games."

"But—" Ron started.

"No,' Percy said firmly. "Mr. Black, Uncle Bilius, perhaps you could help us. We came here to find this ghost council for the other world. . . ."

"Ghost council?" Bilius echoed.

"What do you need to see them for?" Sirius asked, eyes narrowing. "Ghosts don't usually cross over to this world until they're ready. Of course, that usually takes centuries. . ." His voice trailed off as he stared at Ron. "Oh, no. I didn't think. You're here way too earlier. I guess I never thought of you, Ron, as becoming a ghost."

"I didn't exactly pick it," Ron replied dryly. Then another thought occurred to him. "Why didn't you become a ghost, Sirius?"

Sirius forced a smile, a distant look filling his eyes. "I don't know. In a way, I wanted to stay there. But. . .not enough, I guess. It's not really a conscious choice. Nothing much was keeping me in the other world. . ."

Memories of a distraught Harry after Sirius' death rushed through Ron's mind in a sickening storm, and he felt his temper snap. "Nothing keeping you? What about Harry?!"

A gasp issued from Sirius' mouth as he stared at Ron, and he turned away momentarily before whirling back with fresh resolve.

Ron felt sudden fear.

"Harry is strong," Sirius stated. "He survived fine without me. He's a tough young man and he's just proved himself by destroying Voldemort. Besides. . ." He sighed deeply, eyes dropping to the grass. "It's my fault he went to the Department of Mysteries that night. If I hadn't been so troublesome. . .a lot of things wouldn't have happened that night."

Ron stepped back, nearly stumbling against the fresh solidity of the ground. It felt so strange to be touching things… but that wasn't what was on his mind. Something else. . .but the look on Sirius' face told him the subject was closed.

"I'm confused," Bilius said.

"You're always confused," Sirius said. "Now, would you be interested in taking your nephews to the ghost council?"

Bilius made a face and shook his head. "It was great to see them again, but if they don't plan on sticking around. . .I see no point in visiting the ghost council. Don't like some of those members. Well, nice to see you, boys, and I hope you might actually stick around later." He turned and darted across the field, fading out in the distance.

Percy watched him, face expressionless. Then he turned to Sirius. "We might stay here? In the spirit world?"

Sirius sighed and started walking across the field, broomstick forgotten. Percy and Ron hurried to catch up with him. "I'm afraid it's not that simple, Percy. If you chose to be a ghost, there's a reason for that. Sometimes those reasons can be changed, resolved. God's always willing to help out in that department. But it takes time. And then… sometimes people just prefer being ghosts. You'd be amazed how many ghosts don't even really know about the spirit world."

The landscape melted away from the sunny field into a dusky city street. Ron stared around him, amazed. It was a city, but no city like he had ever imagined. Not that he had seen many cities besides London. But this made London look like some putnick fishing village. Gold and silver buildings curving into themselves like no architecture he had known about. Hermione might have known but. . thank goodness she wasn't there. And yet he almost wished she were. The city was beautiful, in other ways than the buildings. Trees and flowers and vines clung impossibly to the buildings and thrust themselves out of the cracks in the street. Above stretched a tapestry of stars and yet the place was a light as early sunset. And all around them were people. All sorts of people, talking, laughing, wearing all variety of clothing. He hated to think such thoughts, but the city was very beautiful.

Percy kicked at the street with a scrutinizing sniff. "Gold," he said in awe.

"Of course," said Sirius. "What did you expect? Not the best pavement, though. There's this other great place that has chocolate streets."

Chocolate. That was even better.

"I still don't understand where we are," Percy said. "We did Apparate or Vaporate or anything. How did we. . .?"

"Moving in this world is much easier than that. And the spirit world is huge. Stretches on to near infinity."

"I always imagined it would be just. . . fluffy clouds."

"Fluffy clouds?" Ron smirked. "Percy, come on."

"Some spots have that whole fluffy cloud thing," Sirius admitted. "There's a huge variety of places. But. . . this just happens to be where the ghost council actually meets. And I still don't understand why you need to see them."

"Oh, it's important." Ron pushed back his sleeve, shoving the rope almost into Sirius' face. "This."

Sirius blinked and pushed Ron's arm back. "A bracelet?"

"I'd hardly call it a bracelet," Percy said angrily. "It's torture, an embarrassment, and completely unjustified punishment."

"Wearing a bracelet?"

Ron felt a strange urge to laugh, which he forced himself to repress.

"It's a chain device, set up to. . ."

Ron rolled his eyes. "He's not getting it. Watch." While Percy scowled at him, Ron ran down to the opposite end of the street, dodging smiling people.

He kept running, aiming for the necessary fifty feet. He felt various dead people watching him. Well, they didn't know what it was like, so they shouldn't stare. But there was one person he glimpsed, and Ron gasped. No. It couldn't be. Harry was alive and perfectly safe.. . .

His feet dug into the ground as the rope snapped at his wrist. The vision of Harry was gone.

"See?" he heard Percy saying.

Harry. . .Ron searched the crowd one more time before heading back to Percy and Sirius.

Sirius didn't seem all that impressed. In fact, he was laughing as if it were but a good joke.

"It's not funny," Ron said, only half caring.

"The two of you chained together like that. . ." Sirius brushed away a tear of laughter. "That's just too. . . . Well, I can see why you need to see the ghost council. Who did this?"

"The Bloody Baron," Ron replied, glancing back into the passing people.

"The Bloody Baron?" Sirius echoed. "Is he allowed to--?"

"No," said Percy, frowning. "And I really would prefer this thing off."

Sirius nodded, still grinning. "Well, we're not that far off. But that would be so good for some quality time—"

"Sirius," Ron interrupted. "You seemed to know that we were both dead. . ."

"Yes. Word travels fast here."

Ron nodded, his mind whirling. "Okay. Erm….would you know if someone else died?"

"Like?"

"I think I saw Harry."

Sirius stared at him, but Percy gave a soft cry of delight.

"Just back there," Ron said, pointing. "But I don't see him anymore…."

Sirius stepped past Ron, looking. Then he laughed again. "James!"

James?

A figure stepped out of the crowd at Sirius' call. At first glance, it seemed to be Harry. But it wasn't, Ron realized. This person was taller, older. The eye color was different. And, hopefully, the guy was deader than Harry. But the similarities were so uncanny. . .

Then it hit him. James. James Potter. Harry's father.

He froze where he was, staring in horror as James moved closer, waving at Sirius. James Potter. The father Harry didn't remember. Ron had always felt sorry for Harry not having a real family, but then again, Harry might as well have been one of the Weasleys. Ron simply couldn't properly sympathize—the concept of not having a father was just so foreign. Harry's parents had been nothing more than bittersweet memories for both of them. But now here Ron was about to meet his best friend's father.

First Sirius, then James. All people that meant more to Harry than Ron. Harry should be there.

"Sirius!" James said once he was in range. "I didn't expect to run into you here."

"Didn't expect to see you here," Sirius replied. "They usually don't like us together in flashy cities like Celio here. . . not since that angel disaster."

Both men laughed. Ron felt completely in the dark.

"Yes, well, Lily just had to do some shopping," James continued. "She saw this robe when we were in Valhalla the other day and she just had to have it."

Lily was here?

"Lily's still a shopper even here," Sirius said. "I'll never understand women. Oh, I'd like you to meet some people."

For the first time James seemed to notice Ron and Percy.

"You're Weasleys, aren't you?" James asked, smiling and offering a handshake, which Ron took while wondering what Harry would think of all this. "I recognize the hair."

"Percy Weasley," Percy said in a dutiful introduction. "I've heard such wonderful things about you, things you did while you were alive. One of the best head boys Hogwarts has seen."

"Clearly you didn't hear about my years before that," James said with a laugh. "And I've heard about you, too. The one that choked on the poisoned broccoli or something?"

Percy ended the brown-nosing. "It was an accident."

"And you," James said, turning back to Ron. "I haven't been introduced to you yet, but. . ."

"That's Ronald!" cried a female voice.

Ron turned to see a lovely red-haired woman approaching, her arms full of shopping bags. Her eyes.. . . just like Harry's.

She didn't even pause as she threw her arms, shopping bags and all, around Ron. "I've heard so much about you, Ron! It's so tragic you had to die, but I want to thank you so much for all you've done for Harry, I really do."

Ron gave a suffocated thank-you.

"Ron?" James repeated, glancing at the woman who had just let go of Ron. "Lily, this is really Ron Weasley?"

"It is," Sirius said. "I told you about him, remember? Your son's best friend. . ."

James went through a moment of confusion before his face brightened in understanding. "It is you! Lily, how did you know?"

"Because I'm a woman," she replied airily. "Ron, we really need to get to know each other. You need to tell me all about Harry. You're his age—I can't get everything out of Sirius." She stuck out her tongue at Sirius.

"Don't you get to see Harry?" Percy asked. A bated question; Ron suddenly realized that he wouldn't be surprised if Percy wanted to find all the laws on ghosthood and the spirit world.

"Of course we do," Lily said, poking through one of her bags and cramming a silver-wrapped bar at each boy. "Here, I bought some chocolate. It's absolutely heavenly." "We get to look in on him every time we want. It's just that. . .well, it's not really the same as interacting with him, like you and Sirius got to do," she finished sadly.

James nodded in agreement. "Sad my idiot of a best friend got more experience with my son than I did."

Ron wasn't sure how to reply to that.

"We don't have time for any of this," said Percy.

"I'm taking them to the ghost council," Sirius explained. "They've. . .a problem." He explained about the bindings.

To Ron's horror, Lily and James found it just as funny as Sirius did.

"Then you should be on your way, then," Lily said. "But still, if you can. . ."

"Right after," James said. "The ice cream parlor. Sirius will take you there."

"But," Percy protested.

Ron stepped on his foot. "Shut up."

"Well, I guess I'll continue shopping." Lily frowned at the bags she carried. "James, do you need anything?"

"Not really—"

"Of course you do. Bye, Ron, Percy. I'll see you afterwards."

Ron watched them head down the street, Lily's red hair glinting in the sunset light. Even then he barely understood what had happened. Harry's parents. They were here. He continued after Sirius, dazed.

They stopped in front of a large building, onyx black and set with what seemed to be rubies. Ron didn't like the look of it—it was too sinister to belong in the city.

"This is it." Sirius frowned, studying the building. "You'll just go right in there. . . and they'll probably direct you further."

"Are you not coming with us?" Ron asked.

"Oh, no. Besides. . .you're the ones with the bracelets."

"But—"

Percy shoved him up the steps. "Thank-you so much, Mr. Black." He almost sounded sincere.

* * *

* * *

**Shout Outs!**

**Very impatient reader:** Hey, no problem picking and choosing chapters! And so I demonstrated my views about the veil.

** v babe24:** - I love you, Dani!

**Tru**** Lys:** Yes. Don't eat broccoli. Even though I like broccoli. Thanks for your comments!

**The ****Chosen**** One**: Thanks for being honest. Hmm… people have told me I've been keeping true to the characters. Do you have any suggestions for me? And the plot does sort of start coming together in the later chapters…

**Tabitha78:** Do you dare laugh at Percy's death? Do you find it funny? Huh? (kidding) Thank-you so much for all your reviews and comments, you rock! And here's the update (finally).

**starsmiles****:** Thanks so much! Glad you liked those lines. I really liked your last chapter, by the way.

**Severus's**** bane:** Yeah, the Grey Lady is a lot of fun to write. Though you should watch her. She has more up her sleeve than being a mind-changing brat. As for Peter Pettigrew… I'm not sure if he's dead yet or not. We'll have to find out.

**rosepetal13:** I'm so sorry about last time with the shout-outs! I don't know why you got skipped! Can you ever forgive me? I'll give you brownies! And you'll see what they do to Fudge…

**Rayn****:** Don't worry, it's not finished! Thanks so much! The story actually is a lot more dramatic than I intended…

**Potterlvr1212:** Thanks!

**Phillipa**** of the Pheonix: **Wow! I gave you an insult idea! That makes me feel happy!

**Pline****:** Aww… you're one of the nice people who actually feel bad for Percy!

**pIPPENpIRATE****:** Whoa. I can tell you don't like Percy.

**Percy Fangirl:** I did Percy's death that way because 1) it was funny and 2) it made a nice contrast about the noble help he actually did. Don't worry, he'll be portrayed in a much nicer light. But he's kind of in a bad mood about the broccoli and a few other things. Thanks!

**NeoAddctt****:** Sorry about the slow update! But Thanks!

**Muses' Advocate:** You really liked it? Thanks! And you're a decent person for pitying Percy.

**moonylover2000:** Great name by the way! I'm not 100% sure Percy deserved that, but… what would it do to him? Yeah, I think you're right.

**MoonCheese****:** You read the whole thing? Wow, I'm flattered! Thanks for your comments! This is actually a very difficult story to write, so I really appreciate what you said. And yes, Ginny will forgive Harry. Eventually.

**miss**** chris:** Thanks!

Midnight Dove: Yeah, Poor Percy. Mean Fudge.

**meenyrocks****:** Yeah, it was a cruel death. But funny. I'm sure getting a lot of different reactions.

**loonygrl90:** Out of curiosity… why else should broccoli be illegal?

**liseli****:** Cliffhangers are friends. Teehee.

**LJ**** Fan:** You cried? Wow…. You may be one of the few decent people that read that chapter. I'm impressed.

**Lady Peregrine:** I actually originally wanted him to choke on a chicken bone like in this book I read, but broccoli is funnier.

**Lady Meriadoc:** That's called anticlimax. No big dramatic death for Percy. And this Grey Lady isn't the one in London… but I'm pretty sure they're related. Rebeccah is my very own twisted and manipulating ghost.

**Krenya-alanak****:** You're right to be wondering about Rebeccah. I'll tell you outright that she wanted them going the whole time. She has something up her sleeve, and you should watch her. She's very manipulative. Oh, and about the Macbeth witches? I just thought it'd be funny if the Rowling wizards thought the Shakespearean types to be satires.

**Jellybaybee555:** Yep. They met Sirius. What did you think? =)

**hydraspit****:** Thanks! I did have a lovely 4th! Did you?

**Hydrangea777:** thanks for being honest! So you really think death-by-broccoli suits him?

**HotDog****-Jo:** Hey, he has to be Ron, and Ron's still holding a bit of grudge. And, yeah, Percy is getting better at not being all evil. And I've decided to just let the humor comes as it comes. My first plan was to make this Humor/Drama, and then I noticed the supernatural genre and couldn't resist. Thanks!

**Hi I'm Crazy:** Kinda sad how everyone laughs at the poor guy's death.

**HiddenFlame42:** You're laughing at Percy's death?! You mean person! (kidding) Yeah, I guess it is in-character for Fudge. I just thought Fudge would be a dufus with the poison and all that…

**From the Silent Planet:** Thanks! Update your story!

**Ellsie****:** Whoa! Demanding! Here ya go!

**db****:** Yeah, Percy was fairly heroic. I had to redeem some how. And I'm glad you found his death satisfying. I liked the contrast between a stupid death and something noble. And you're right about other's dying. The deaths were very hush-hush.

**Crystal Lightning**: You and your hunches. You aren't psyhic, are you?

**A little birdy told me**: thanks!

**aja**** liebe:** I don't think I'd be a good assistant for J.K. I'd probably kill everyone off. Though she seems to be doing a good job of that herself…


	15. Wild Goose Chase

"Let go of me," Ron muttered as he tripped up the steps, Percy's hand still painfully there on his shoulder. "I'm going in, I'm going in. . ."

"I'm sick of delays," Percy snapped, now knocking Ron through the black doors which swung in with surprising speed. "I didn't come here so you could chitchat with every solitary…."

"Must be nice to know the dead."

"You knew Uncle Bilius!"

The doors swung back in, freezing closed in the frame and sucking out every particle of the golden light.

"Are they closed?" Percy asked.

A tomb, Ron thought suddenly. He was no longer in heaven but trapped in that stupid coffin. Or the maroon jar, if Percy hadn't been joking about the funeral. He spun around, utterly blind. Well, it wasn't as bad as just beyond the veil, but…

"But I don't know why they'd have anything closed in the spirit world," Percy mused.

"Are you arguing with yourself?" Ron hissed. "I really don't think we should be here."

Silence. Then Percy sighed. "You're not still afraid of the dark, are you? Just. . . walk forward or something."

Not knowing what else to do, Ron did. And slammed right into a wall. Gasping in pain, he felt his nose, expecting blood. Of course there wasn't any.

"So we won't go that way," Percy said.

From somewhere to Ron's left came another deep sigh and a strange clicking. "For heaven's sake," said a woman's tired voice, "I hate it when they turn off the cold fusion sources. . . I'm sorry about that!"

The clicking increased, and the room flickered into light. Ron stumbled back from the wall, still rubbing his nose which still hurt. He had forgotten how painful having a body was…

"Oh, dear, did you bump it?" The woman, a short blonde with a halo above her head sitting at a wooden desk just feet away from Ron, peered worriedly at him. "That's no fun at all. Well, at least you can see now." Her too-thick lips flipped upward into a broad grin. "Again, I'm so sorry."

Percy glared at her. "Weren't you there to have the lights on?"

Immediately the smile was gone. "Oh, excuse me! I didn't know that angels weren't allowed to have other things in their busy lives other than sitting at a desk for eternity! It's bad enough that I have to rush here from the Elysian Fields every time some Joe walks in, but now I have to be responsible for turning on the lights! This stupid cold fusion is nothing but a pain. . ." The angel angrily ripped a sheet of parchment from the desktop and held it right up to her face. "And I don't think there were any appointments scheduled. . . ."

"Um." This wasn't the reception Ron had imagined. "We're a walk-in?"

Percy groaned.

"We're a walk-in," the angel mimicked, her angel slanting down toward her hair. "Well, it's not like anyone ever comes in here anyway. Curse my willingness to take such a job."

"If no one comes in here anyway, then why were you just complaining…."

The angel muttered something under her breath and pulled what Ron recognized as a Muggle ballpoint pen from a drawer. With a disparaging glance at Ron and Percy she scribbled something on the schedule. "Fine, whatever. If you're brave enough to see the ghost council, walk right in. I'll tell them you're coming. She motioned at a door that melted into the wall behind her.

Ron darted through it, eager to escape the psychotic angel.

"She could hold it in better," Percy commented, following him. His voice had softened to almost sympathy. "Poor thing, though."

"Poor thing?"

He shrugged. "Well, it's hard, doing that sort of thing. The people you have to put up with. . . ."

Ron frowned, staring at the empty vestibule they had entered. Another door was at the end of it. "But you liked your job alright."

Percy gave a derisive laugh. "Oh, yes, fetching coffee was loads of fun." He pushed past Ron and opened the other door a crack.

Ron hung back, expecting something to jump out. There was nothing but a door and a slant of light behind it.

"Hm." Percy opened the door a little further. "Hello?"

There was a muffled shriek flung among a storm of noises like furniture being scraped over the floor and a crash of something glass.

Ron wondered if he'd prefer the secretary.

"Enter," boomed a voice. The door flew open, nearly slamming into Percy who only barely managed to jump back.

The room was nothing what Ron expected. Actually, he wasn't sure what he expected, but it wasn't the scene he saw before him. A long wooden table, aging and somewhat splintery and decorated with a yellow paisley tablecloth, lined one wall of a rather small and boring room. Set up against the table were thirteen chairs, only six of which were occupied.

"Welcome!" the voice boomed again. It belonged to a man sitting around the middle of the table. He was dressed far too extravagantly for his surroundings in a glistening green robe. "I am Sir Eldenar of the Ghost Council of the Spirit World!" Dark locks of hair fell over his smooth face as he stretched into a deep bow.

Ron choked back a laugh.

"And these are my associates," Sir Eldenar continued, waving a hand at the five other people. "Kendra Arlington, Abraham Michaels, Esperenza Catalina Montoya, Cedric Diggory, and David Price."

"Cedric?" Ron heard himself repeating. His eyes flashed over the table. Near the end sat a burly, dark-haired boy, smile mixed with a something of boredom until he met Ron's gaze.

"Ron Weasley?" Cedric asked, standing up. "Percy Weasley? What are you doing here?"

"We're dead," Percy replied dully.

Cedric nodded, glancing back at the other council members who were watching the scene with fascination. "I know, but. .." He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. "I didn't expect to see you here."

Percy nodded impatiently. "Wonderful. But we're here anyway."

Ron just stared at Cedric. He supposed after seeing his uncle and Sirius and the Potters, he should have expected to see Cedric, but Cedric Diggory had been murdered several years before. He wasn't supposed to _be _anywhere. "You're on the ghost council?" he asked incredulously.

Cedric rolled his eyes and forced a more realistic smile. "Not exactly. But. . . for some reason they want me to do this for a month or so. Not like there's anything else to do until the new Quidditch field comes in." His face brightened. "Have you seen the location for it yet?"

Quidditch. Something Ron hadn't been able to properly discuss in forever. "Yes, it's where we landed! It'll be perfect."

"I know, won't it though? It's—"

"As fascinating as the new Quidditch field is," David cut in. "I'd really like to know who braved through our propaganda and why they're here." He nodded at Percy. "You know, we really don't like having to do this council thing and we go through a lot of work to scare everyone away and we'd really rather be doing something else, all of us, so if you'd care to bring up the matter and then leave…"

Percy cleared this throat and Ron stepped back, still amazed at meeting Cedric. "We're here because of these," Percy began, rolling back his sleeve so that the rope was visible.

"Rope?" Abraham snickered.

Ron prepared for the demonstration.

"It's not just rope," Percy continued. "It's the fault of one of the ghosts in the living world. One at Hogwarts."

"Hogwarts ghosts!" one of the woman cried. "Oh, they're so much fun, I hear such good things about them. That Bloody Baron. . . " She blushed. "I'm sorry. Please go on."

The woman fancied the Bloody Baron! Ron looked at Cedric, who nodded as he tried not to laugh.

Percy swore under his breath, but put on his best brown-nosing composure. "Actually, this was the Bloody Baron's doing. My brother Ron and I were fighting, and apparently that broke some rule we didn't know about involving keeping peace within the school, and the Baron decided to put these on us. And now we can't go fifty feet from one another."

"Hang on, hang on," Sir Eldenar said, shaking his head. "I'm confused. You're saying that you actually came from the Living World? Excuse my disbelief, but that's very rare that a spirit will do that. Are your hauntings not going well?"

"We weren't haunting anyone, we were—" Ron started, but Percy cut him off.

"Yes, we came from the Living World or whatever you call it. We came through the Veil in the Department of Mysteries. We—"

"They still have that stupid Veil?" David asked the other woman. "Esperenza, did you know anything about that?"

"Well, they just like studying things like that. Give the living a break."

"But to leave it there like that. . . ."

With a deep sigh Cedric stood up and cupped his hands around his mouth. "Will everyone just shut up?!"

David and Esperenza stopped talking and stared up at him.

"Thank-you." Cedric hopped back into his seat. "Now my friends here have a problem, and we're supposed to help solve it."

"I'm in charge here, and I'm permanent," Eldenar mumbled.

"Sorry. Percy, you can continue."

Percy looked at Cedric, then at the rest of the council. "I don't even want to bother."

He wasn't trying to force a point. Ron studied his brother. How often did that happen? "We just want to get these removed. We were Gryffindors, so Sir Nicholas is our house ghost and he says he supposed to be in charge of other Gryffindor ghosts—"

Cedric nodded.

"But he says he isn't able to remove the bindings. We thought you might help us."

The council members exchanged confused looks. Even Cedric watched Sir Eldenar.

"We can't help you," Eldenar finally said.

"What?" Ron exclaimed.

"We can't help you." Eldenar leaned back in his chair, kicking his feet onto the tabletop. "I'm most sorry, but it's out of our hands."

"But you're in charge of ghosts," Percy said. "That's what we were told!"

"True," said Kendra. "But we don't have much experience with them. As we said, it's quite rare for ghosts to come here to see us. When most come over to this world, it's to stay permanently. We don't get bothered a lot. Technically, the Baron had no right to do this to you, but. . ."

"That's what everyone's been telling us." Percy picked at the rope, face desperate. "Please, is there nothing you can do?"

"What I'm curious about," Abraham said. "Is how you came over in the first place. I mean, you said you went through the Veil, but I didn't think anyone knew about that old rag."

Old rag? Somehow it didn't seem appropriate to call the Veil an old rag. "Well, Sirius Black came through it, and then the Bloody Baron and the Grey Lady were fighting about it—"

"The Grey Lady?" Cedric echoed. Without another word he disappeared.

"More ghosts," Eldenar sighed, tracing his finger along the table's edge. "I don't see how they can help you, either. Unless, of course, you contact your representative. Why didn't you see him in the first place?"

"Because we don't know who he is," said Percy. "You know, you ghosts are a lot less stable and organized with your rules than I would have thought."

"And it's your responsibility to find these things. Most ghosts don't care." Eldenar dropped his feet down. "Well, it was nice to meet you and sorry again we can't help you."

"Thanks for dropping by," Esperenza said with a smile, climbing to her feet. "I do hope you enjoy the rest of your visit. The door will open for you."   
"But—" Percy said, holding up a hand.

"Thank-you," she said more pressingly, waving them toward the door.

Then, one by one, the council vanished, leaving Percy and Ron along in the empty room.

"That was helpful," Ron commented, staring at the rope, so ordinary and appearing so weak. . . It hit him. It wasn't coming off. With a scream he ripped at it, feeling the rough fibers slide over him but not through. It really wasn't coming off. He'd be stuck with Percy for the next century. Percy. It was all his fault. Somehow…. "Now what are we going to do?"

Percy didn't reply. He didn't even show any sign of hearing Ron. He stood where he was, staring at the table, eyes blazing behind his glasses.

Ron felt his own anger ebb into fear. This was the most furious he had ever seen his brother. Ever. A silent rage that was probably building up….

Percy suddenly screamed and launched out violently, kicking the table. "I can't believe this!" He whirled towards Ron. "You. . . "

Ron stepped back. "What did I do?"

"You. . ." He clenched his teeth, grinding them, and with a low growl shook his head.

Percy couldn't even fight again. Somehow that fact just made everything worse. Ron marched toward the door, trying hard not to cry. "Let's just go." Without waiting he slipped into the vestibule and back to the secretary's room. The cold fusion thing the angel had mentioned had the room lit somewhat dimmer than before. She wasn't in sight. Ron wasn't surprised.

Well, Lily had mentioned ice cream. He felt a smile force its way up. He hadn't had ice cream in so long. . .

He screamed as he was flipped backward, his right wrist twisting behind his body. The bindings… He straightened up, glancing at the door. So Percy had failed to follow him.

The thought of ice cream vanished. This was just getting ridiculous. "Percy!" he called.

"I'm right here." The door opened and Percy appeared face expressionless.

"Where were you?"

"None of your business." Well, you're the one that wanted to leave." Without a glance at Ron he strode through the front doors.

Only Percy could be obnoxious enough to stall like that. A heavy mug sat at the angel's desk, begging to be picked up. Ron watched it. He should turn away but. . . oh, he couldn't resist. With one fluid action he picked up the mug and chucked it toward Percy. Unfortunately, the doors swung closed just in time for the mug to strike them. It fell to the ground, unharmed.

"Bloody hell," Ron whispered, following after Percy.

The city outside was oblivious to what had just happened with the council. It was sickening, especially how it demanded to brighten Ron's mood.

Sirius was waiting at the bottom of the staircase. "How did it go?"

Percy scowled and held up his wrist. "No wonder you wouldn't go in."

Sirius frowned, and for the first time seemed bothered by the situation. "So. . you're stuck like that?"

"Unless we find this bloody 'representative' everyone keeps mentioning," Ron said. "Sirius, you are so lucky you aren't a ghost."

"It can't be all bad," he said wistfully. "At least you're out there. Don't get me wrong, I love this place. But sometimes. . ." He sniffed and glanced down the street. "I told Lily and James that I'd show you where the ice cream parlor was. Come on."

"I don't want ice cream," Percy said. Still, he followed.

"But you haven't tried this ice cream. It might make you feel better."

The ice cream parlor was a tiny silver shop crammed between two larger buildings. Lily and James were waiting outside, surrounded by even more shopping bags than before.

"She found things I needed," James explained, embarrassed. "I take it didn't go very well?"

Ron let Percy give his laborious explanation. He couldn't concentrate on the council when Harry's parents were right in front of him. They seemed so nice… how come Harry didn't get to know them?

"That's terrible," Lily said as soon as Percy was finished speaking. She stared at the ground, fingering one of the handles of a shopping bag. "I know ice cream probably won't help, but. . . I really want to talk to you. I invited you before, and if it still isn't too much trouble, I really would like you to come in."

Ron gave Percy a quick look, wondering if he'd challenge the invitation further. But he hadn't been able to do so with Sirius and seemed less willing to do so with Lily.

Sirius hadn't lied about the ice cream. It was delicious, and being the second thing after the chocolate Ron had eaten in days it was mind-blowing. He devoured his bowl, loving the way the cold strawberry flavor slipped down this throat.

Lily waited patiently for him to finish before throwing out her demand. Evidently there was a price to the ice cream. "You need to tell me about Harry. Everything about him."

Ron blinked. "Harry is. . . Harry." No, that wasn't appropriate to tell Harry's parents. "I mean, he's wonderful. He's great. He's my best friend." It still didn't sound right. "You'd be proud of him."

James smiled and took another spoonful of his marmalade-chocolate ice cream. "We are. I don't think he knows that, but. . ."

"He's a murderer," Percy whispered. He sat in the corner of the booth, ice cream barely touched save for the carvings his spoon had made. Fortunately, Ron was the only one that heard him.

"I. . . I don't know what else to say," Ron finished. How stupid was that. He couldn't think of a single thing about Harry, nothing good enough for his parents, anyway.

Lily's pretty face was tight with anticipation, demanding something more. But nonetheless she nodded, tears glittering under her eyes. James' eyes weren't dry, either.

They miss their son, Ron suddenly realized. They also miss Harry. He didn't know why the idea struck him so hard, but some part of his mind lashed out in unfairness. Harry was his best friend. Up till the he had been the only one actually missing Harry. No one else had. But now, with Sirius and Lily and James all around that able eating ice cream, he realized just how absurd the idea was.

"Thanks," she murmured. "I think I needed to hear that."

That single word was a key to everything. Before he knew what was happening his mouth was open, spilling out in a rampage nearly everything he and Harry had ever done before, how they had met on the Hogwarts Express, playing Quidditch, classes, spending time at the Burrow, everything he could think of. All of it almost seemed to happen again as he spoke, sending memories whirling through his mind. Sirius sat back, smiling, while Lily and James listened in rapture. Only Percy managed to ignore everything.

"I don't have time for this," he finally said, interrupting a story about something funny that had happened in Divination. "Mr. and Mrs. Potter, thanks for the ice cream, but I think I'll wait outside."

"What about the binding?" Sirius asked.

Percy shrugged, not looking back. "It's less than fifty feet."

"What's his problem?" James asked as soon as Percy was gone.

Ron made a face, not really caring. "I don't know. He's always been like that."

"Perhaps you should go talk to him," Lily said, gazing at the door.

Again he felt his temper rise. It wasn't fair. He had been having such a good time with Lily, James, and Sirius, and Percy had to ruin it all. "I'd. . . rather not."

For a moment she seemed ready to say something, but changed her mind. "Ron, I can't tell you how wonderful it was to finally meet you. You have no idea what it has been like to watch Harry and be able to say nothing to him."

"You said something about that earlier. How are you able to watch him?"

"We aren't ghosts like you," James said. "But the living and the dead are never so far apart as to cut off all contact. God isn't that cruel. We just. . . watch. It's very difficult to explain, but I suppose that's the gist of it." He gave a small laugh. "I guess you can call us Harry's guardian angels. Even though we really don't do anything."

"But we saw everything that night," Lily said. "The night you. . . died. Harry was fantastic. We were proud of him. He was never supposed to go through any of this. No one was supposed to. All this time I've just wanted to step in and take care of him and make sure nothing happened to him but. . . I suppose that's what every mother wants for her child, though. But it doesn't work out that way." She paused, her hand scratching at the countertop. "Ron, I'm so glad he has you."

"Had him," Sirius corrected.

"No, has him. We can look in, but we aren't ghosts. We can't be seen, not like you can. You. . . you can still talk to Harry, if you wanted to."

Talk to Harry? The Hermione incident was still too fresh. "Uh-huh. I. . . I don't think I could do that to him?"

James looked bewildered. "Do what?"

Ron shrugged, suddenly unsure. "I don't know. I just don't think Harry would like it very much if I just. . . appeared."

"How do you know?"

Percy, he almost replied. But why would he admit to listening to Percy?

"Maybe we should go," he muttered.

"Of course," Sirius said. "If you plan on figuring anything else about your problem."

Lily nodded, more tears in her eyes. "I wish you the best of luck. Thanks for everything." Again, she threw her arms around him in a hug rivaling his own mum's. "Please. . . just be there for him. And talk to your brother."

James shook his hand, face shining. "I'm really glad to have met you. You were very brave that night. I think you might have even helped save Harry's life."

Ron had to say something back. "Harry still wishes you were around." Stupid.

The Potters just laughed. "That's good to hear," James said.

Somehow, that laugh made the parting easier.

Percy was waiting outside, looking noticeably bored. "Took you long enough," he muttered, shoving something into his pocket. "Some Virgil idiot asked me if I wanted to go to hell with him. So. . . how do we leave here?"

Sirius shook his head, glancing at Ron. "I feel like a bloody chauffer."

Ron laughed. He really would miss Sirius. Again.

_Note: Before you freak out that this entire chapter was a wild goose chase… think of Percy's delay and the "shoving something into his pocket." _

* * *

* * *

****

**SHOUT OUTS!!!**

**_Annie: _**Thanks!

**_A Little Birdie Told Me: _**For some reason, your review made me laugh. Don't take that the wrong way.

**_Crystal Lightning:_** Brownies! This update is especially for you!

**_Dr. Huff-Puff_**: Hmm.. actually, I don't know if Harry will meet Sirius! We'll have to see! And here's the story about killing Ron: I'm a Percy fan, and the original idea was that somehow he'd die and be a ghost and it'd be all angsty. But then I thought… someone else should die as well. And that turned out to be Ron. And then it became more Ron-centric. And as for the original idea of death and ghosts… I blame "Ghost" and "Angels Don't Know!"

**_Duj_****_:_** Yeah, it kind of his a filler chapter. But I had to make a bridge somewhere.

**_From the Silent Planet:_** Curse those fluffy white clouds! I have nothing against them, but I want me and Lily to be shopping buddies. Glad you approve of my heaven. And curse your lazy muses!

**_HiddenFlame42:_** Nice to know I made you laugh. Thanks for your compliment. I just hope I can work all my ideas in properly.

**_Hi Im Crazy:_** Well, I couldn't do Sirius and then skip out on the Potters! I actually think it's funny you forgot about them.

**_Hotdog-Jo:_** Yup, heaven is a happy place.

**_Hydrangea777:_** I thought Sirius and the Potters might just be so excited about seeing Ron, but… I think you're right. =P

**_Hydraspit_****_:_** Thanks! And so far now fundies have attacked…

**_Icy Dragon Claws:_** Wow… you're a decent person for pitying Ron. I just can't help but think that death is hard for those who die—in that social way. Bilius isn't that scary—he's just nuts.

**_JelleyBaybee555:_** Yes, they have to meet all the good people. I couldn't go without Sirius….

**_Kellalor_****_:_** Thanks! I guess it can't help being both.

**_Krenya-alenak_****_:_** So you picked up on the redemption? I'm glad. And I think I'd also be eating those chocolate streets. Well, Lily and James have a right to be happy, and they do get to watch, and yes, they of course will be reunited with him. Someday. Hopefully not too soon. But that all depends on J. K. Rowling…

**_Kristen36:_** Thanks!

**_Lady Meriadoc:_** Yup. James is awesome.

**_Lady Peregrine:_** Haha! You called them bracelets as well! Maybe I should let that catch on….

**_Liseli_**: I PROMISE that the trio will again interact.

**_LJ Fan:_** Aww… I'm glad I made you stuck between locations for Ron.

**_Midnight Dove:_** You didn't get your name in bold because… you're special!

**_Mooncheese_****_:_** Percy's job is to ruin everything. He's a git, but he'll get better. Thanks for your review! Very inspiring!

**_Muses' Advocate:_** I've passed on your condolences to Ron. Your lovely review just made me realize that, well, all these people really are dead! I mean, me being the one that caused some of those deaths I of coruse knew, but you know what I mean. Anyway, your review just made my day!

**_pIPPENpPIRATE_****_:_** It wouldn't be heaven without shopping.

**_Pline_****_:_** That's actually one of the things I find saddest about this story. Harry has never known his parents, Ron has known his own, and yet he's the one that meets Harry's parents. I thought Ron might feel a little bad about it.

**_rosepetal13:_** ee!! Tooth pulling!

**_Starsmiles_****_:_** Lily and James will play quite a role in this story. =)

**_Tabitha78:_** Oh, you're welcome about the mention of God. You know I'm also religious, and it doesn't bother me to let wizards in heaven or deny religion…

**_Tap Dancing Widow:_** I LOVE "If the Fates Allow"! It's one of the best fics I've ever read! Agivega is just incredible.

**_Try Lys:_** Thanks!

**_UniCornVampire3z:_** Lol. So you're not confused anymore?

**_Vanilla Kiss:_** Aww…thanks for your review! It was nice to hear that! Made me really feel I'm doing a good job. So you also have a fear of choking?! Me too! Probably why I included it…

**_v-baby24_****_:_** I can do the rod n' reel and the brownie, too!


	16. The Girls' Mistake

_I realize this is kind of a short, bridge chapter, but I'm swamped with finals—and I just wanted to write a chapter! So I couldn't get all the info I wanted to put in into it, but I promise more will come._)

Ron couldn't figure out how in the world he and Percy were able to return to the world of the living. He had expected something nice and dramatic, like the way they were thrown into darkness and then into a pre-development Quidditch field. Leaving the spirit world had to be worth something, didn't it?

But the truth was surprisingly boring. Sirius had led them to the field, where they had remained a few moments talking. Well, Ron and Sirius had talked; Percy had just hung nearby. Then Sirius said his final goodbye and. . .

Ron closed his eyes for the fifth time. Perhaps if he kept trying, he'd open them to some whirling vortex of terror rather than the Gryffindor common room. Not that he would have especially enjoyed a whirling vortex of terror, but it had all happened so fast.

"How predictable," Percy muttered from nearby. He swooped towards the floor, flinging his hand effortlessly through a passing second-year. "The Ministry of course would have to set something like that up."

Ron opened his eyes. Again, the Gryffindor common room. "A pesky second-year?"

"No." Percy moved to the fireplace and into it. "Dang this. . . I mean, that veil of yours and Sirius Black's."

"So you're impressed that your precious Ministry could do it?" Ron sighed, testing his eyes again. No use. He was still in the common room, floating near the ceiling. Whatever version of a stomach he had tried to flip itself. The short experience of tangibility in the spirit world had been so familiar. . . he hadn't meant to get so used to it again. "What about coming back here? We were just barely in the field with Sirius and then. . . Percy, we're not even in the Ministry!"

"Exactly!" Percy shot back up from the fireplace. "Ron, you moron, that's what I've been trying to say. We're not in the Ministry."

It was much too confusing. Ron snorted. He knew Percy was trying to make a point, but why did it have to be so ridiculous? Yet how like him to worry about that when some anti-climax of the supernatural had just happened. Percy has always had an obsession with the trivial doings of the Ministry. If it fascinated him so much, why did Ron have to listen? The fact that he didn't intend to would bother Percy all the more. . . He bit his lip to squeeze back a laugh, his bewilderment over their return leaving his mind.

But. . . Ron's frown became real. Percy seemed almost ready to laugh as well.

"We're not in the Ministry," he continued, "But that's where we entered the spirit world. But when Sirius Black sent us back here, well, he seemed to have done nothing. It was all so simple." The almost-laugh vanished. "Why do they have to mess everything up? What do they think they're playing at, having that thing in there?"

That wasn't the reply Ron has expected. "I thought that would actually impress you."

"Yeah." Percy's hand subconsciously fell to the rope around his wrist. "But haven't I been whining about the Ministry long enough?"

"Well, the Ministry was responsible for your death." Ron let the laugh out that time. "Or would that be the broccoli?"

"It's not funny."

"Hm. Maybe that's why the Ministry has that veil. Wouldn't it be funny if someone up there doing some boring report of whatever it is you people do in the Ministry and accidentally tripped?" So it had sort of happened to Sirius. That didn't matter; somehow the concept was suddenly hilarious.

Percy stared at him, a loose portion of the rope twisted around a finger. "That wouldn't be funny at all. Didn't that happen to your friend?"

The humor was lost on Percy. As usual. "I was just saying. . ."

He shrugged and shook his head. "That's okay. You were just talking." He let the rope slip from his finger. "That's so strange. I want nothing more to get this off and it looks like we won't be able to until next century, but it's so nice to touch it. The spirit world. I haven't been able to touch anything forever."

Touch. . . Ron frowned and leaned out to touch the wall. Nothing there. "If you miss it so much, I could go push you through the veil again."

"What veil?" Jillie popped out suddenly before them, grin spread tight over her freckled face. "Is that where you've been? Nick was saying something about something, but of course no one bothered to listen. . . "

Ron sighed again. Of course they would appear.

"I thought that was your job," Cornelia's voice said softly. The air next to Jillie flamed. "If it concerned you so much, Jillie. . . ." A portion of the flame turned. "So. . . where have you been forever?"

"I'm not exactly sure that really concerns you girls," Percy said icily.

Jillie's eyes lit up. "Oh? You weren't out trying some subtle means to get Harry Potter with Ginny, were you?"

It took Ron a moment to remember what they were talking about. Harry and his little sister. . . the idea had been lost among the panic of the veil. "You're still on that?"

"We've been working on it for the past two weeks."

"Two weeks—" Percy shook his head, frowning. "That's impossible."

"You're just awful!" A new voice rang out as a third girl swirled into view, an angry face surrounded by a messy cascade of pale hair. "Impossible? You're the one sneaking off while some Gryffindor psycho tries to make me do her dirty work." Pale eyes snapped to Percy, and her frown increased. "Percy Weasley. I've been avoiding you since you died. You were always so awful to watch when you went to school here."

Cornelia closed her eyes, sighing for patience. "Dream, please. . ."

The girl known as Dream drew back from Percy, though her face still remained stone. "I'm sorry, Cornelia," her voice not sorry at all. "But I don't plan on working with—"

"Dream. . . Percy, ignore her." Cornelia opened her eyes and gave a sheepish smile. "May I present Dream Oracle of the Ravenclaw ghosts to you?"

"A particularly brilliant conspirator, might I add," Jillie said with a laugh.

"Dream Oracle?" Ron repeated. Jillie and Cornelia had mentioned her earlier. But by some other name. "Isn't your name really—"

"That's not my name!" Dream screeched. "My name is Dream Oracle and if any stupid Muggle law office wants to argue otherwise, they can give me their address and I'll haunt them."

"But if that's your law name," Percy started. "Then isn't that what you should go by?"

Dream all but snarled at him. Then she slowly unclenched her fists and smoothed back her hair. The result was a surprisingly calmer Dream. "My parents were Muggle hippies," she explained nonchalantly. "I know you think Dream Oracle is a silly name, but they liked it enough to give it to me when I was born, and I like it. It's not my fault they changed their ways and legalized me something more 'traditional', darn them." She flashed a smile at Ron. "Don't you like it?"

"Er. . ." Ron wasn't quite sure how to respond. But the girl was smiling at him—still smiling at him—and his experience with girls taught him that she expected some sort of reply. "It's fantastic."

"Glad you agree. So, like the Gryffindor ghost girl asked, where have you been the past two weeks?"

"But we haven't been gone two weeks. . ."

"You say you haven't?" The confusion Ron had felt earlier rushed to Jillie's face, and Cornelia and Dream exchanged significant looks. "You must be lying, Ron. Very funny."

"Jillie, I don't think they're lying," said Cornelia.

"Though it would be very Percy Weasley-like to lie. . . ." Dream's former snarl seemed ready to return.

"Percy doesn't lie!" Ron heard himself shouting. It was true—other than the colorful account of the funeral, Percy could always be counted on for at least that.

Even Percy gave him a funny look. "Thanks for that spirited defense, Ron. Dream, I'm not sure what you have against me, but we certainly have not been gone for two weeks."

"But the last time we saw you was when Harry and Hermione were kissing," Jillie mused, her brows furrowed in concentration. "That was two weeks ago. This doesn't make any sense."

For the first time Cornelia seemed almost to laugh at Jillie. "Okay. Well, then. We might be able to figure this out. Percy, I know it probably isn't any of our business, but. . . where did you go?"

It was an awkward circle, Ron thought. Himself and Jillie lost in confusion, Cornelia badgering Percy, and this Dream Oracle about ready to jump down his throat. If anyone said the wrong thing. . . he looked away, down at the common room. Two weeks? How could that be? The common room didn't seem any different, but then again, it had changed so little over the years. A few second-years sat on the floor playing some game while several other students were scattered among the armchairs, talking or studying. He felt his stomach flip again. And there was Hermione—why hadn't he noticed her earlier? Because she was being Hermione? A book covered her face, her sleeping body curled in one of the chairs. Yes, Hermione falling asleep studying. Not entirely characteristic of her, but. . . he wondered how long she had been studying.

"The spirit world?!" Jillie suddenly shrieked, jerking Ron back to the present. Evidently the conversation had continued without him. "You went there?!"

"It wasn't nearly so hard as everyone made it out to be," Percy said with a shrug.

"But how? How did you get in?"

Ron felt his brother's eyes turn to him. "What?"

Percy frowned disapprovingly. "You're the expert on the veil here."

"Veil?" Dream echoed. "Yes, I think you are lying."

"But there really is a veil," Ron started.

Dream shook her head and shot another smile at him. "You don't have to defend him just because he's your brother, Ron. Though your kindness would be helpful if you do want to help with our little scheme." In a pivot of emotion she glared at Percy. "Prove you went to the spirit world."

Percy reeled back. Ron recognize the look on his face. A temper was about to flare. "I can't prove something like that!"

"Sure you can!" Jillie exclaimed, moving toward him. "I mean, no ghost who would go to the spirit world would leave without some token. Percy, what did you bring back?"

"Exactly," Dream said. "You claim it, and Jillie's right. You would have brought something back."

"That's not necessarily true," Cornelia said, inching back from the two other girls moving in on Percy. "But if they're telling the truth, well, that might explain for the time difference if. . ." Whatever she wanted to say went ignored.

"Get off me!" Percy's arms flailed as he pushed away from the girls. "You can't just. . . hey, give that back!"

Dream held an envelope in her hands and was gazing greedily at it. "Is this important, I wonder? Is this your proof?"

A letter. . . "Where in bloody hell did you get that?" Ron asked. The answer hit him before his question was out. Percy had been slipping something into his pocket outside the ice cream parlor. How could he have ignored that.

Percy growled and made a grab for the letter, but Dream held it above his reach. "Not until you tell me the truth," she sang.

"This is so childish. .. no wonder someone pushed you into the lake."

"No wonder you're such a jerk, Weasley. Here, Ron. Catch." She tossed the letter in his direction.

Ron easily caught the envelope despite Percy's attempt at a diving rescue. "To. . . Rebeccah Grey," he read.

A row of flame slid quickly over Cornelia's face. "The Grey Lady?"

"You're reading someone else's mail?" Dream asked Percy. "Yes, where did you get that?"

Percy slid back against the wall, frowning, until he nearly melted into the shadows. "I got it from Cedric Diggory," he muttered.

"Ceddy!" Dream squealed. "I was so disappointed when he didn't come back as a ghost. He and Cho Chang were so close; it was rather sweet. But when he died I figured if he did come back. . ." She blushed silver after a look from Jillie.

Ron handed the note back to Percy. "Is that why you took so long at the council?"

Percy gave a slight nod and a grumble. "It was right after you left. Remember how he disappeared during that ridiculous trial? He came back with this. Apparently it's been waiting in the spirit world for a long time, but since so few people go back and forth it was near impossible to get it to her. So Diggory entrusted me with that responsibility."

"Hmm." Dream twisted her finger into her hair thoughtfully. "So Cedric would trust you with something like that?"

Percy rolled his eyes and stuck the letter back in his pocket. "Don't even think about taking it."

"How come Cedric didn't give me the letter?" Ron complained. "And as for the Grey Lady, she practically forced us through the Veil for nothing."

"How utterly Ravenclaw of her," Percy muttered. "No offense, Cornelia. But. . ." His voice trailed off as he pulled the envelope back out. He read the address, lips moving. "Ron, you don't suppose. . ."

"Suppose what?"

Percy stared at him, frowning.

Ron hated it when Percy automatically expected him to know something.

"Never mind." The letter was returned to the pocket. "I'll tell you later. When we're alone."

"Lunatic," Dream muttered.

Ron laughed.

"As I was saying," said Cornelia. "Maybe time moves differently in the spirit world."

"But two whole weeks?" Percy asked. "I'm still not sure I believe you."

"You had better," Jillie put in cheerfully. "We've already gone far into our little Cupid plot."

A sudden wave of horror washed through Ron. "You've gotten Harry and my sister together already?"

It was Dream's turn to laugh. "I don't think they know which one is your sister, Ron."

At that moment, Harry slipped through the portrait hole, calling Hermione's name. Immediately Ron's attention was there.

Harry darted over to the chair, still saying her name.

"Huh?" Hermione groggily pushed the book from her face. She looked. . . so beautiful, despite the hair still clinging toward the pages and the panic in her eyes. "Oh, no! I fell asleep! Now I'll never get a proper chance to study and Snape assigned the essay a week ago and I'm so behind and..." She took a deep breath. "Sorry, Harry. Thanks for waking me up."

Harry smiled apologetically. "I think you do need to sleep more, Hermione. Um, I have a question?"

"Harry, I know the professors are letting you slide a little on your studies, but that only gives you all the more reason to do the work yourself—"

"It's not about that. Do you know who Charity Broadbent is?"

"Charity Broadbent. Yes, she's—" Hermione frowned. "Why do you want to know?"

"Because. . ." Harry sighed, his face going red. "Because I have this sudden urge to ask her out and I'm not sure who she is."

"See my point?" Dream asked.

**SHOUT OUTS!!!**

**Kaitee:** Art lessons rock!

**xXNaziHaloXx:** You're incredible. Thank-you so much for your review, and your advice on **waiting for inspiration! I hate forcing things, and I'm glad you understand that.**

**HiddenFlame42:** How dare you forget about Ceddikins!

**meenyrocks:** Well, I sort of explained what the note was in this chapter, so....

**Tru Lys:** No, I didn't change the chapter. At least I don't think I did. Maybe FF was being weird again....

**Icy Dragon Claws:** Oh, dear. I don't want to send Harry over the edge. . . that's true, I'm not sure how he would react to hearing about his parents. Oh, dear. Now I get to fret over I shall handle all of that.

**starsmiles:** I'm glad you liked that part of the chapter! The discussion about Harry was one of my favorite parts as well.

**hydraspit:** And I'm loving your story!

**v-babe24:** Thank-you, Danikins!

**Shades of Ink:** Yes, suspense. Suspense is our friend. _Pelts her with Altoids_.

**Mooncheese:** No, not all angels are angelic. This heaven isn't quite how I imagine it—I actually don't have that definite a concept either. But I do believe in an afterlife, and that we will be actually be doing things and being with those we love. I also believe that the spirit world and our world aren't that far apart, so that the dead do look in on us.

**Pline:** Yeah. Percy actually has issues that Harry let Ron die—at least that's how he sees it.

**Crystal Lightening;** Thanks! And ice cream always makes me feel better, so...

**Dr. Huff-Puff**: Actually, I bet if you think about it, you could figure out who the ghost representative is.

**RVG:** =) Don't try and blow your mind out about it.

**HotDog-Jo:** I like playing around with different perspectives of Percy like that. He's such an interesting character.

**Muses' Advocate:** Thanks so much for your review! It made my day! And I'm so flattered by your word for it.

**Liseli:** Ooh! I like your plot!

**From the Silent Planet:** Hah! I'm sorry to remind you of Dante when you seemed to have had such a lousy experience with him, but I couldn't resist throwing in Virgil!

**Hi Im Crazy:** To be honest, Ron won't go visible for a few more chapters. Sorry.

**Libby Bird:** The dream idea is good.... You'll see. =)

**Lady Meriadoc:** Don't worry! Being tired sucks.

**Rosepetal13:** Muffin! Yummy! Thank-you!

**UniCornVampire3z:** Ron wouldn't be Ron if he weren't clueless. So why do you feel sorry for Lily and James?

**A Little Birdie Told Me:** Haha! Percy the Pickpocket. It is nice to say.

**Midnight Dove:** Thanks! Percy had to sympathize so he wouldn't be a complete git.

**Duj:** Thanks! And even more info will be out later!

**LJ Fan:** Awww... I love it how you're also so concerned with Ron's dilemma. It's bothering me, and I'm the almight authoress. It just strikes me as something to think about.

**pIPPENpIRATE:** Wal-Mart is the whore of the earth. By the way, you're the 300th reviewer!


	17. More of the Cupid Game

_Wow. This is probably the quickest update I've done for awhile. Basically, I'm down to one more final and nothing to study. Yay!_

* * *

The idiocy of his words struck Harry like a bludger to the head before they were even out of his mouth. A sudden urge to ask out someone he didn't even know? What kind of morons declared such things? The past two weeks had been the ultimate madness, but to do that. . .

"You have a sudden urge to ask her out?" Hermione's voice filled the room as it slid into the one tiny niche when everyone else stopped talking.

How convenient that all would hear. Harry considered blasting a hole in the floor and jumping into it.

"Harry, for goodness' sake," she said more softly, setting her book down on the floor and reaching out to feel his forehead. "Are you feeling all right?"

"That's a stupid question," he muttered, shaking her hand away. There was more he could add there, so much more. Of course he wasn't feeling all right. He hadn't felt "all right" since Ron died. All the bloody articles filling the newspapers about his supposedly heroic defeat of Voldemort, the wide-spread peace. . . who cared? His best friend was dead and wasn't coming back. Harry was surviving, they all were. But that didn't make it "all right" and it didn't lessen the load of a thousand complaints he could be so ready to give. But Hermione had heard them all, he reminded himself. She had heard them all more times than anyone should and no doubt she had her own and hardly even needed to be bothered with something as trivial as a girl he felt he had to date. So he bit his tongue and managed an apologetic smile.

"I didn't mean it that way, Harry." Her hand hovered in the air as in consideration of throwing itself back at his forehead, but then she let it drop to her lap. "But," a half-forced giggle broke from her throat. "You just race in her calling my name so I can point you in the direction of a girl."

It sounded even stupider when someone else said it. If Ron were there he'd think it funny. And. . . it kind of was. His smile deepened. "Yeah, I'm pretty well aware I did that. But. . . " Why did he have this desire. "Can you tell me who she is?"

"Fifth year Slytherin. One of the nice ones, so you're good there." She sighed and picked up her book, fanning the pages for her spot. "She's pretty cute, not that I swing that way. Curly red hair, big blue eyes. But I don't think you care about her appearance if you have your heart so set on her already." She found her spot and spent a moment scanning the page, her lips moving silently with the words.

"I don't have my heart set on her; I just have this feeling—"

She sighed and slammed the book shut. "Harry, I'm trying not to laugh. But would you care to explain what feeling is possessing you to chase after a fifth year Slytherin?"

"Explain?" he echoed. He wasn't even sure himself. But for over a week now the name Charity Broadbent had been running through his mind each morning. "I don't know. I just. . .wake up thinking about that name. And then I have an urge to ask to her out."

"A dream girl?" This time she did laugh. "Well, it's better than kissing me. But you don't even know her!"

"I would get to know her."

A group of fourth-year girls passed, chattering wildly while Harry and Hermione stared at one another.

"Harry," Hermione said, more serious. "I think that you might be a little on the mad side here. Are you sure that you're just not going through some weird phase of grieving?"

He winced. "You had to bring that up." Whatever joke they had laughed over earlier vanished.

"Oh, Harry, I'm sorry," she said quickly. She turned in a rather girlish maneuver to hide herself as her hand brushed past her eye. "But. . . I think you are."

He hadn't mean to upset her, but it seemed too late for that. Shaking his head he plopped down in a chair across from her, sinking into the well-used cushions. "I don't know, Hermione. I didn't think of it that way, really. This is going to sound really strange, but. . . for some reason this all reminds me of Ron."

Her now-dry eyes widened. "Charity Broadbent reminds you of Ron?"

"No!" Without even thinking he laughed, long and loud. "I mean, yes, but not that way."

Hermione stared at him as if he were mad. But then she began to smile. "I think I understand you."

At least she wasn't freaking out on him. "Maybe I am going crazy."

"Well. . ." Still amused, she fingered her book. "If it'll get this weird craving out of you, I'll introduce you to Charity. But what about Ginny?"

Ginny? They had barely spoken since. . .the incident. "What about her?"

Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but then shook her head. "Never mind. I was just thinking."

"Thinking about what?"

"Just. . . oh, it's nothing." She scooped her book underneath her arm and stood up. "Come on. She's usually in the library around this time."

Harry considered pursuing the Ginny topic, but Hermione was already to the portrait hole. But now it was stuck in his mind. Ginny was just. . . Ginny. He didn't really know. He had thought they had been such good friends, but now she wouldn't even look at him. That was the main excuse everyone else seemed to take. But she was Ron's little sister. Harry could barely look at her.

But he wasn't supposed to be thinking about Ginny. If he waited long enough that odd thought of "Charity Broadbent" would flash again through his head. He had to make it go away somehow.

"Okay," he called to Hermione, darting after her.

"Who is Charity Broadbent?" Percy asked.

"You just heard, moron," Dream said, slipping closer to the spot where Hermione and Harry had just sat and twirling methodically around the chairs. "She's a fifth year Slytherin, and Harry Potter is about to ask her out on a romantic date."

"Sorry," Cornelia murmured. Almost subconsciously she pulled her hood tighter around her head.

Cornelia was apologizing? Ron stared at the portrait hole as Harry disappeared through it, his mind tumbling. Percy was right. Who the bloody heck was Charity Broadbent, and why was Harry asking her out? He finally managed to tear his eyes away and lash them onto Cornelia and Jillie. Girls were insane. Every single one of them. "What did you do?"

Jillie sniffed. "Well, I never said I was good at remembering names. Remember, Ron? I called you Ron Weasel a couple times when we first met." She laughed. "I think I should take that back up. Ron Weasel. And Percy Weasel."

"I don't even want to hear it," Percy said. He gave a small laugh, nodding at the vacant portrait hole. "Well, at least the murderer won't be dating Ginny."

Whatever Percy's obsession with calling Harry a murderer was, Ron couldn't understand. "Just. . . stop that. He's not a murderer."

Percy shrugged, clearly not caring. "You died when he was there. If that doesn't make him a murderer, it at least makes him somewhat responsible."

"Harry—" Ron's voice broke off. He gawked at his brother, unable to believe what he had just heard. It wasn't Harry's fault. Not at all. "You can't be serious."

"I am serious."

Dream shot back up from the chairs, sneer stretched across her face. "Oh, a fight, will it be?" Her hand brushed Ron's arm. "I'll be cheering for you, of course, Ron. You can beat him."

"A fight!" Jillie squealed and flipped backwards into the curving ceiling. "Oh, you two haven't had a proper fight in such a long time. And the last one was ended much too short for my taste.

"Oh, dear. No more fighting." But Cornelia seemed almost as eager as Jillie.

"Fighting?" Shaking his head, Percy slid back from the group. "We're not fighting, as you can see. We're talking about Harry Potter and this Charity Broadbent girl."

Charity Broadbent. Amazing how something so odd could slip from one's mind. If only Ron could figure out who she was! But no matter what, Harry would be better off snogging her than Hermione—no. What was he thinking? "But you said you were going to set up Harry with Ginny."

"That's what I tried to tell you, Ron." Dream's hand slipped past his arm again. Ron jerked away. Somewhere in the back of his mind he could hear his mum lecturing on being polite to girls. "Cornelia and Jillie tried to get your sister, but. . . they messed up. Like Jillie said, they forgot her name."

"I'm the one who forgot." Jillie seemed almost proud of the mistake. "Cornelia. . . that wasn't her job."

Ron noticed Percy twitch as Cornelia shot him a tiny smile.

"My job was to get her to react," she said. "I'm a Ravenclaw, so I was just going to take Jillie's word on the girl."

"But. . . couldn't you have figured it out by the last name? Or something?" Girls weren't only crazy, they were idiots. Silly idiots, every last one of them.

"Ron, why does this bother you so much?" Percy asked.

"Because he's concerned about his best friend," Dream snapped.

Percy seemed ready to reply to her, but only hardened his face and turned to Ron. "You're not exerting some urge of protection over Ginny, are you?"

"I—" He frowned. It was a good question. Why did he care so much about who Harry dated? Even if it was a Slytherin? It wasn't any of his business. Especially now that he was dead. But Ginny. They had said they were going to play Cupid with Harry and Ginny. Not some Charity from Slytherin. Ginny. His little sister. And he hadn't fully supported that, had he? Just minutes earlier he had panicked that they were actually together; now he was disappointed? It was all a whirl of too much to consider. Yes, Harry probably was the only one he would be somewhat comfortable with to have dating Ginny. And even Harry had his flaws. But Ron hadn't demanded the girls leave that idea. "I just don't like it when people change ideas on me."

"And I don't like murderers dating my little sister," Percy muttered.

"I didn't think you cared about her." The words were out before Ron even thought them.

Cornelia gave a small cry.

Percy stared back at him as if he had been struck. "I care," he managed to say. "How dare you say that to me. Especially after everything I told you."

Jillie coughed. "Told him what?"

Jillie didn't need to hear all of that. Swearing under his breath, Ron ripped his eyes away from his brother to stare at the floor. What Percy had said. He had forgotten. Then again, he had scarcely thought much about Percy's story; there hadn't been any time. Percy had helped the Order of the Phoenix. And he had been so against it. The contrast was almost too much. And if Percy was ready to help them, why wouldn't he care about Ginny and the rest of the family? Because he didn't. Because he had left. It was the perfect opportunity for some nasty reply, but for some reason he couldn't think of one.

"But they would be cute together," Jillie mused. "Harry and Ginny."

The slumber party Cupid game again. There really was too much in the room to think about. Ron sighed. "How can you think that when you don't even know who she is?"

"Charity Broadbent is cute. And she does have red hair."

"But—"

She laughed. "If you want Harry Potter dating your sister, perhaps you would be so kind as to point her out for us. Weasel."

"This is so pointless." Percy rolled his eyes.

Now it was Cornelia's turn for surprise.

"Or perhaps," Jillie continued, slowing her voice to enunciate each word. "You could help us even more by doing something. Perhaps you could get your sister to date Harry."

But Ginny wasn't speaking to Harry, Ron thought. "And how would we do that?"

"You could always just go visible and talk to him," Cornelia suggested thoughtfully.

"Visible? There's no way I'm doing that. Jillie didn't go visible when she told Harry to date this Charity girl." He stared at Jillie. "Did you?"

"Of course not. The poor boy has enough death on his mind without ghosts actually throwing themselves at him."

There was a pause.

"Then what did you do?" Percy asked, giving into some curiosity.

"I thought you didn't care," Dream hissed.

Jillie shrugged. "I didn't go visible, but. . . he could still hear me. I just slip into his dormitory at night and whisper "Ask out Charity Broadbent" over and over again."

All three girls laughed.

"It's quite fun," she finished.

There was another pause as both Ron and Percy stared at her.

"You went into the boys' dormitories in the middle of the night?" Percy looked fit to faint.

"And that's all there was to it?" Ron asked. "That's. . . easy. If you could get the right girl, of course."

"It is easy," Jillie agreed. "So it wouldn't be too much trouble at all if you two Weasels did it."

"But ghosts can't go into the girls' dormitories." He still too well remembered the shocks of his last attempt. "And why can't you do it?"

"Because you should be a little more involved in your sister's love life."

Percy snorted in disgust. "This is absolutely the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard!"

Jillie smirked and glanced at Cornelia, who shook her head.

"Percy," Cornelia began gently. "We can just as easily set Ginny up with any number of freaks by this little process."

"But she's upset. You can't do that to her when she's upset. And. . ." He sniffed, putting forth his most resolute expression that would survive under a twinge of panic. "We have things to do. We really need to find this ghost council representative or whoever. And this letter to the Grey Lady. And we still have no way into her dorm."

"She might want to visit your parents," Dream said. "You could get her then."

Ginny dating freaks. A million copies of creeps like that Michael Corner kid. . . Ron felt his own panic increase. "You can't set her up like that. And you don't even know who she is.  
"We could eventually find out."

How he hated girls. "Oh, fine."

"Ron!" Percy shouted.

Jillie giggled. "It's done, then. Now you just have to find a way to talk to her in her sleep."

"I heard her say she might go home soon for a weekend before the holidays," Cornelia said. "If Professor Dumbledore lets her."

"But you girls don't know who she is," Percy said slowly. Then his mouth fell open. "Oh, no."

Ron was thinking the same thing. They had been tricked.

* * *

* * *

**SHOUT OUTS**

_xXNaziHaloXx:_ You are a fantastic writer! You have so much spice in your style!  
_v-babe24_: But I like suspense. =(

_Tru Lys:_ Very good guess about Binnichan! It's actually incorrect, but. . . you're so on the right track! And yes, it's sad Ron can't have Hermione. cries

_Tap Dancing Widow:_ Actually, Cedric has no idea what is in there for the Grey Lady. He just knew he was supposed to get it to her.

_Tabitha78:_ Your patience is so appreciated! I'm going to try and set up a better schedule.

_starsmiles:_ Actually, the Grey Lady is part of their problem. You'll see.

_Pline:_ Yes. There really isn't any point to yell at each other anymore. They have to be somewhat nice to survive.

_pIPPENpIRATE:_ Yeah, well, I like your story. Simpsons rule!

_Phillipa of the Phoenix_: Yes, that was Heaven. If there is ice cream, it is heaven. (just a general rule, at least in my view) Actually, it's not a letter in the envelope—the boys just think it is.

_Neoma:_ Thanks so much! Well, I hope you do like Harry and Hermione's eventual reactions!

_Midnight Dove:_ Glad you like Dream! I'm proud of her!

_meenyrocks:_ These are teenage female ghosts playing with people's hearts! How isn't it serious?! But it is kind of anticlimactic, isn't it?

_LJ Fan:_ I hate to tell you this, because your intentions were so good, but. . . Percy and Ron can't eat cookies. They're dead.

_liseli:_ But cliffies are my friends!

_Lady Meriadoc_: AP? shudders

_Lady Kazaana:_ If I could bloody find you on campus I'd give you a popsicle! Try and call me again!

_Krenya-Alenak:_ You're forgiven. =) The girls are going for many things with their little project.

_Kellalor:_ They've been... naughty girls.

_hydraspit:_ You'll soon see more about that envelope.

_Hydrangea777:_ Thanks so much! It's such a hard story to write so it's nice people can get somewhat involved.

_HotDog-Jo:_ They can make that mistake because they're manipulative girls.

_HiddenFlame42:_ Lol about your old teacher! I actually stole the name from my neighbors! Just randomly. Well, Charity won't be too important, but she's a lead-in to more Ginny stuff. And as for finals in August... my university offers three semesters a year. One is during summer.

_Hafae a.k.a. Hufflepuffer242:_ Thanks! Now I have to go get McDonalds.

_duj:_ Don't you dare remind me of studies! screams Thanks for the good luck, though.

_Dr. Huff-Puff:_ Well, as you can see in this chapter, they know perfectly well who Ginny is. They just like to play with guys' minds. Oh, and you're the 350th reviewer!

_Crystal Lightning:_ Well, Ron reacted. Do think he should freak out anymore about the mistake?

_Birdy:_ It is odd, isn't it?

_Annie:_ I'm thinking it might be best if the Snitch is never again found.

_always krissy:_ You really like my style? Thanks!

_ajaliebe_: Thank-you for your constant encouragement.


	18. A Unicorn Named Carl

Sad how pathetic Harry could be when it came to asking out a girl, Hermione thought as she trudged back to the common room. Though, all in all, she had seen worse approaches from far too many of the male population at Hogwarts. By some standards, Harry had been downright charming as he extended a rather fumbling invitation to tea to Charity Broadbent. Perhaps if Hermione hadn't been hiding in plain sight behind a bookshelf. . . she already knew Harry wasn't good under pressure.

"Circe," she told the Fat Lady, and the portrait swung open. Thankfully her chair had not yet been taken over. . .she still had valuable reading to do that had to get done before Harry returned to panic before her. She had, perhaps foolishly left him in the library to have what must be a painfully awkward conversation with Charity. But the deed was done. Charity had said yes, probably because Harry was Harry Potter and she felt sorry for him. So Harry had his strange dating desire momentarily fulfilled.

She curled up in the chair and pulled her book back out, ready to start again into a rather fascinating essay on the tie between alchemy and Muggle recycling. Almost ready. She flipped to the page where she thought she had been at and gazed steadily at the words. They weren't making any sense. She wasn't going to fall asleep again, was she? She really did need to focus on her studies, being that this was her last year of Hogwarts. Of course she had to study. It didn't matter how difficult everything had been recently. . .

And what was up with Harry? She almost slammed the book shut. She had never seen him so bent up on asking a girl out. And a girl he didn't even know at that! Well, if it made him feel better, then perhaps it was for the best. He had to get the craziness out of his system, that was a given. But why Charity Broadbent? All of Harry's rambling explanations plodded through her head. So for some reason he connected it all to Ron? Why Ron? What did Ron have to do with any of it?

Some strange part of the grieving process; she had decided that earlier. And she understood it. For whatever reason, Harry was connecting Ron and Charity, and perhaps there really didn't need to be any more explanation. After all, a new relationship could be good for Harry. It would get his mind off of Ron.

Ron. . .

She glanced quickly around her, almost expecting Parvati or Lavender to jump out of the woodwork with cookies or something. Those two. . . Hermione had never really appreciated them until recently. They had always been nice, friendly girls, but nothing much more than that. Now they were a blessing, and frankly Hermione didn't know how she would have survived the past few weeks without them following her around like two guard dogs. But part of her still hated them to see her tears.

She could be so pathetic. With a silencing sniff she wiped her eyes on her sleeve. Was she ever going to get over this? At least Harry was trying to do so.

The entire concept rushed again through her thoughts. Harry had said Charity had reminded him of Ron. She thought she had understood, for the most part. But there was something far too odd about that, something she couldn't quite put her finger on. . .

Well, it wasn't any of her business. Harry was trying to move on, the least she could do was let him.

"Hi, Hermione." Ginny's voice was actually reasonably cheerful. "Studying?"

"Huh?" Hermione snapped out of her thoughts. "Oh, yes. Well, I'm trying to. I heard a rumor there would be a quiz tomorrow. . . ." As if Ginny cared about Hermione's education life. "How are you doing?"

Ginny shrugged, dropping into the chair Harry had been so recently sitting in. "I think I'm beginning to despise Transfigurations. And I mean it. I swear, the next time Professor McGonagall transforms herself into a cat. . . "

"Such violence," Hermione replied. At this rate she'd never get herself to study. But what did it matter at this point? "I think Fred and George poured some revenge on her my first year. . . did they ever tell you about that?"

"The bleeding ink on her desk? Oh, yeah. I've heard the story."

She gave a small laugh. She remembered yelling at the twins about that one. Though Ron, of course, had found it hysterical. . .

Ginny also managed to laugh. "I don't think McGonagall would fall for the same trick again, though. Especially from another Weasley."

"Very true. She has quite the memory, McGonagall."

"I suppose I could think of something else," Ginny mused. "But I don't see how that would help me pass the class."

"I could tutor you," Hermione offered. "If you want."

"I'd really like that." Too much of an effort to say. The laughter was gone.

Of course Ginny didn't really want to talk about classes. Hermione could have kicked herself; she was really falling out of the loop. This was actually the first time Ginny had spoken to her in several days. The girl was keeping far too much to herself. "So. . . how are you feeling lately?"

Ginny shrugged again. "Better, I guess. I really don't know. I'm thinking about going home for a weekend to see Mum and Dad and the twins."

How lucky Ginny had that much of her family left. "Oh, Ginny, that would be wonderful for you."

Another natural smile. "Dumbledore said I could go. You could come, if you want."

To see the rest of Weasleys again. Something pulled at Hermione's heart. "Really? I'd. . . I'd really like that" But she had to study that weekend.

Ginny's smile widened until her face was practically glowing. "You would go home with me?"

The poor girl looked near ecstatic. Hermione couldn't bare. . . "I. . . hope I can go. I can't be sure, yet. But I really want to," she finished quickly. Yes, she wanted to go. But then she didn't. Flashes of the Burrow. . . Ron's room was there. "I promise you I'll consider it."

That seemed to satisfy Ginny. "If you didn't come, it'd be just me and my family there, you know."

"Ginny. . ." Hermione couldn't even think of what she wanted to say.

"Huh?"

Emotions swept through her. She could still see the Weasley home in her mind. "Are you going to invite Harry?"

"Harry?" It seemed that the light around Ginny faded.

Hermione had said the wrong thing.

"Exactly why would I invite Harry?" Ginny asked. She wasn't angry; for all intents and purposes the question was all the logic anyone could cram into any thought.

Hermione sighed, wishing she could take it all back. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that."

"Do you think I'm being mean to him?" Ginny pressed.

"I'm not thinking anything. . ."

"Because I don't think I am." She pushed her fingers, one by one, into the soft material of a pillow. "I just. . . I just can't talk to him right now."

Hermione gazed at the other girl, once again trying to fully comprehend Ginny's issue with Harry. It was hard, of course. It had to be. But this was the same boy Ginny had once had a crush on. And they had been friends after that. Why this now? "Well, he is your friend. You really can't blame him for what happened."

"I know that." Ginny's voice dropped to eerie near-silence. "I don't. . . I don't feel that way at all. . ." With a sniff she shoved the pillow to the floor and met Hermione's eyes. "I think I told you that before, haven't I? I'm. . . I'm not supposed to feel that way, am I?"

Hermione sighed deeply and reached over to grab Ginny's hand. "You can feel whatever you want. And yes, you've probably told me all of this before. But. . .Harry still is your friend, at least?"

"Of course he is!" She seemed shocked by the very idea of otherwise. "I mean, I think he is." She gave a small scream and fell back against the chair, her hand jerking from Hermione's. "Oh, Hermione, I don't know what I think anymore!"

Poor thing, Hermione thought. At least she herself had some logic left. "I think I know exactly what you—"

And then, to her surprise, Ginny started laughing. It began with small giggles that built slowly into hysterics. People turned to stare.

All Hermione could do was sit there. Perhaps she did need Parvati and Lavender here.

"I'm sorry," Ginny gasped, fighting for her breath as the laughter continued to storm out. "I'm so sorry, I don't know that the matter is with me." She shook her head, red hair breaking from her braid. "Hermione, how insane am I?"

Hermione found herself smiling. Clearly everyone was insane but her. Though maybe she was insane in a different way. "Maybe I should tell you something about Harry."

Ginny's hysterics rolled to dead stop. "He's not inviting himself, is he?"

"Ginny, you just told me you wanted to go home. Harry has no idea."

"Oh." She sucked in another lungful of air. "I really am going crazy." She flipped her back and tried to look calmly back at Hermione. "I'm sorry. So. . . what did. . . Harry do?"

"He's pursuing a dream girl," Hermione replied. "A Slytherin. Charity Broadbent. He claims he had this overpowering urge to ask her out. He. . . " She considered what she was about to say; Ginny was plenty on the edge. And she herself had been thinking too much of Ron lately. "For some reason he thinks Ron has something to do with it."

For a long moment Ginny was utterly blank; Hermione feared another onset of laughter.

"Did he already ask this girl out?" Ginny's voice was tiny, barely audible.

"Yes. . . I just introduced them to each other about ten minutes ago."

"Did she say yes?"

Hermione blinked. "Well, yeah. She did say yes. Ginny. . . I thought you wouldn't mind. . ."

Ginny shook her head, face so tight her freckles seemed ready to jump out. "I don't mind. . ."

"You don't. . . you don't still like him, do you?" Hermione had always held that suspicion, for over two years, but never before had she thrown it out Ginny like this. "I actually was thinking this might be good for him."

In a flash Ginny was on her feet. "How can this be good for him? He's dating some girl he doesn't even know. And a Slytherin, for crying out loud!"

"Charity's perfectly nice!" And why was she defending the girl? "Ginny, I just think Harry needs to deal with everything in whatever ways he thinks best."

Her brown eyes flashed with something else to say, but then, meek as a kitten, she fell back into her chair. "I'm not. . . Hermione, I think I am crazy."

Hermione almost laughed. "You're not crazy. If anyone is, I think it's me. But really, why do you care who Harry dates, if you don't like him anymore?"

A slow blush filled Ginny's face as her eyes dropped like hot coals to the floor. "I don't like him that way. You know that. I just. . . Can I just say that if you get to be crazy, I do, too?"

Maybe it was the best they all be crazy for a little while. "Fair enough."

* * *

"Let me see that envelope," Ron said, sneaking a hand toward Percy's pocket. "Just one look."

Percy jerked away, robes whirling into the corridor walls just beneath a painting of two witches in a garden. "No!"

"If we give it to the Gray Lady, we're never going to see it again, so we might as well open it while we can."

"Ron, do you have any idea how illegal it is to read others' mail?"

Ron sighed and hung back a way, trying to figure out what Quidditch move would be the best for attacking Percy and stealing the envelope. "I would hardly call a piece of parchment from the spirit world mail. You are such a prat."

"Diggory entrusted me with his."

"But he doesn't even know what it is!" No move came to mind, but anything was worth a shot. He shot through the air toward Percy, arm outstretched. It couldn't be too horribly hard. Percy had never been the most athletic one in the family.

"What do you think you're. . . " Percy managed to duck out the way.

Ron felt the echo of splinters as he tumbled head-first into a staircase in the middle of moving.

Dream sighed dramatically, her long silvery hair whipping into the ceiling. "Perhaps I should just deliver the letter for you. Though, Ron, you are certainly welcome to come with me."

Ron tried to ignore the fact that she had just winked at him. "Percy, you're going to let Dream see the letter?"

"No, I am not going to let Dream see the letter. It's not her responsibility, either."

The corridor turned a sharp corner where Dream spun in the air to face Percy. "Oh? And I suppose it is not my responsibility to lead you to Ravenclaw Tower?"

Ron paused, expecting Dream to launch a fight. Unless Percy took that role. Though he knew Percy would never strike a girl. Even if she was a ghost. Dream, on the other hand. . .

"Don't forget that Cornelia here is also leading you to Ravenclaw," Jillie put in with a nod.

"But Dream offered in the first place," Cornelia admitted. Yet she was ahead, drifting just under the ceiling. "Even if I have been a Ravenclaw longer. . ."

"You're a wonderful Ravenclaw, Cornelia," Dream said sweetly. "We can both lead them. It's our responsibility, if that makes you feel any better."

"What if the Gray Lady isn't even in the tower?" Ron said. They had been unable to get rid of the girls, who had insisted on throwing themselves into the mission to the Gray Lady. He suppose that since she was their House Ghost it was only fair, but. . . he hadn't even been allowed to see the stupid envelope!

"Then we can look somewhere else," said Jillie. "You are so impatient…"

Percy seemed to be thinking about something else. Summoning all his strength, Ron again sprang at him. Percy's cloak slid through his fingers. The pocket. . .

"Knock it off!" With surprising strength Percy pushed him away.

How humiliating. Ron had been Quidditch Keeper and Percy could still keep the envelope out of his reach.

If only he had been a seeker instead. . . Well, that wasn't an option. Seeker had been Harry's position and Ron simply wasn't Harry.

But there were other options.

Ron pointed at a dusty corner between classrooms. "Look! It's the Grey Lady right there!"

"She can't—" Even the girls turned to look.

Stifling a laugh Ron dove a final time at Percy and snatched out the envelope.

"Hey!" He felt his brother's hands at his wrists, but it was now far too easy to just jerk away. "Ron, you can't read that!"

"Ron can read whatever he wants to, you moron," Dream said. "I still don't see Rebeccah."

"That's because she's not there." Percy still gripped in vain at the letter, but Ron held it out of his reach.

"You're the one that fell for it," he said with a sneer.

"Ron, you are. . ."

Ron ignored him and stared at the envelope in his hand. It was strange, almost tangible unlike all the real objects around him. At least he could touch it. Rebeccah's name as scrawled across it. So it was for her, whatever was inside. But somehow it didn't seem important to open it now. As long as he had gotten it away from Percy.

"If anyone cares to notice," Cornelia said softly. "Ravenclaw Tower is right next to us."

"Penny never let me over here," Percy muttered.

The stone wall stretched up near a staircase, a gigantic tapestry of a unicorn nearly covering it like a blanket.

"Carl steps out of the way to let in the living students when they give the password," Cornelia explained with a small laugh.

Ron stared at her.

"Carl?" Percy echoed.

"The unicorn," Dream clarified with a smile, patting at the unicorn's head even though her hand passed right through. "That's his name."

"His name is Carl?" Ron asked. How did Ravenclaws put up with such a thing?

"Hey, we didn't name him. We don't even bother. We can just go on through."

A unicorn named Carl. Ron studied the tapestry, shaking his head, while Carl blinked back at him with a rather offended expression. Maybe the unicorn didn't like his name, either. He didn't even notice that the others had already slid through the wall until he felt the too-familiar jerk at his wrist.

"It's rude to stare," Carl hissed as Ron slid past.

The Ravenclaw commonroom wasn't too much different from Gryffindor Tower, except for the fact that everything was in blue and bronze and there was a bookshelf taking up one entire wall.

Hermione had almost been sorted into Ravenclaw, Ron suddenly thought. How she would have liked that bookshelf.

Cornelia and Dream floated into the center of the room.

"Rebeccah!" Dream called. "Rebeccah!"

A shimmer of smoke plummeted from the ceiling, and the Grey Lady appeared.

"Dream!" she exclaimed. "How nice to see you! And. . . the Weasleys." She practically glowed. "Did you make it through the Veil all right? It wasn't too dangerous? I told Nicholas you shouldn't have been allowed to go, but he never listens."

Listened? Ron smirked. The entire conversation between Nearly Headless Nick and the Grey Lady had been one big trick.

"The Veil was fine, ma'am," Percy said with an awkward bow. "We. . . we found something for you."

"For me?" She gasped in delight. "Where is it?"

Four pairs of eyes turned to stare at Ron. It took him a moment to realize what they wanted. The envelope, of course. He searched his pocket. Empty. Had he even put it in his pocket?

Percy rolled his eyes. "You lost it, didn't you?"

"I didn't lose it." He tried to think. Carl the unicorn. "I probably dropped it when you dragged me in here."

"Still fighting, I see." The Grey Lady clicked her tongue disapprovingly. "I thought you would learn better."

"Oh, they always fight," Jillie said. "It's fun to watch."

"I'll go look," Cornelia said, disappearing through the wall. In a moment she was back, letter clutched in her hand. "I found it! Carl was trying to eat it."

The Grey Lady seemed to start at the envelope, like Ginny when she wanted to say something. Ron found himself watching her. What was. . .?

"Give it here," she said. "Please. Oh, thank-you for this."

"Who is it from?" Cornelia asked as she placed the letter in the Grey Lady's hand. "Percy and Ron have been trying to steal it from each other all day. . ."

"It's from no one. No one important." The Grey Lady smiled as she slipped off a pale glove and slit open the envelope with a long fingernail.

"You seem happy to have it," Percy observed. He, too, was watching her, and Ron's gaze slipped to him momentarily.

"Oh, I am. I'm so glad you brought it to me. She squeezed open the parchment and glanced inside, her smile broadening. "Actually, I have to confess something to you, Mr. Weasley. Both of you. I tricked Nick into letting you go through the Veil."

Percy almost laughed. "We had guessed that."

"Then I don't feel too terrible." She shook her head, hair whirling around her. "Miss Oracle, Miss Constellation, Miss. . . whatever your name is, Gryffindor girl. Could you please excuse us for a moment?"

"What?" Jillie's mouth fell open. "We. . . wanted to see. . ."

"They can tell you later if they want. Cornelia, please take her somewhere?"

Cornelia shook her head, grabbed a still-arguing Jillie by the shoulders, and pushed her back through the wall.

"Bye, Ron," Dream said with a wave before following the others.

Good riddance, Ron thought.

"Is this something important?" Percy asked, staring after the girls.

The Grey Lady sighed and placed the envelope in her pocket. "I feel just horrible, and I really must tell you something."

"There's nothing. . . too wrong with letting us go through the Veil."

Despite the fact that they had learned nothing.

"It's more than that," she said, putting her glove back on. "The. . .something in the envelope has been in the spirit world for a long, long time. My sister Jane and I left it there, before we left. . ."

Ron blinked. "You were in the spirit world?"

"Yes. It's wonderful there, but. . . I thought it best I stay with this school; I love the students so much. You know very few ghosts go back and forth. I mean, the two of you wouldn't even be able to stay long in the spirit world. So few try to go."

Percy nodded. "I didn't realize that."

"This was very important to us, what was left there. They kept it waiting for us, if we ever returned." She brushed her eye. "But I couldn't. And Jane never leaves London. So I had to get you to go."

"I still don't see why you feel so bad," Ron said. "It was nice there. You can send us back, if you want."

She stared at him for a moment, face twitching. "Oh, Ron. It's more than that. I needed a reason for you two to want to go through in the first place. You see, well. . . I can't even say it."

What had she done?

She sighed again, more tears slipping from her eyes. "It's just terrible for me. I. . .played another trick on you." She gestured at the rope at Ron's wrist.

For some reason he felt it burn.

"I'm. . I'm the one that got the Bloody Baron to put those on you."

* * *

* * *

**SHOUT OUTS!**

****

**_Ajaliebe:_** Thanks

**_Birdy: _**Wow, no one has pitied Harry for awhile! Yes, he's not quite all there.

**_cAJUNpIPPINpIRATE: _**Ties the girls together?! Goodness! Lol, that's a great idea! Yes, Harry is in SERIOUS need of closure.

**_CharliesMommy: _**Well, Percy is a jerk! Yay Percy. Yes, Ron will go visible again.

**_Crystal Lightning:_** Thanks for the tip! I like the thought that Ron would be somewhat prejudice against Slytherins. I'll see if I can get him to cause chaos later.

**_Dr. Huff-Puff:_** Aww… you are so sweet. You're thinking the right way on the ghost representative.

**_duj:_** I think the girls have a store of spectral sugar somewhere. They are nuts.

**_HiddenFlame42:_** Thanks! I thought there needed to be some comic relief.

**_Hi I'm Crazy:_** The girls know exactly who Ginny is. They just want Ron and Percy to participate.

**_Hafae a.k.a. Hufflepuffer242: _**They didn't get the names up; they're playing a nasty, nasty trick. =)

**_Hotdog-Jo:_** You're questions shall be answered. =)

**_Hydrangea777:_** You actually liked the conversation? Wow… No, Charity won't do to much.

**_hydraspit:_** The world refuses to let Ron and Percy bond. Thanks!! I'm so loving your story, by the way!

**_kalathetrumpeter:_** Thanks so much!

**_Krenya-alenak:_** You might be confused because the girls played a dirty trick. Charity.. she's just a date figure I needed. She won't be terribly important.

**_Lady Kazaana: _**Yay Brian! Well, I was looking all over for you! And you never called me back last night!

**_Lady Meriadoc:_** So… why would I let something go… wrong on Charity and Harry's date? What on earth gives you that idea? What kind of person do you think I am? ;)

**_Lady Peregrin:_** Oh, don't feel bad at all! AP is so hard! (I had no idea you were both in the same classes) and if you're sick… Thanks for your review. Yes, I think you do know what Harry mean when he was connecting Charity and Ron.. it is hard to explain, isn't it? But yeah, the girls some associated Ron when they were telling Harry to date Charity and Harry sensed that.

**_LJ Fan:_** No, the ghost cookies are a wonderful idea! Do they come in oatmeal?

**_liseli:_** More cliffies for you!

**_Madam Whitbrook_**: I think I'm just resorting to sublteness. This was originally was supposed to be drama/humor.

**_meenyrocks:_** You were right on with the girls' trick. See? You are with it!

**_Moony:_** Yes, I'm terrible with cliffies and updating. Sorry.

**_Neoma:_** Hey, I want him with Ginny just as much as you do!

**_Phillipa of the Phoenix:_** It's something between Rebeccah and her sister. An item they left. Well, I'm going to explain that later in the story, but there is no reason why I shouldn't explain Percy's "Harry is a murderer" obsession right how. Basically, Percy does love Ron despite all their arguing, and he blames Harry for not saving Ron. Percy is okay with himself being dead, but he is Ron's older brother and is protective…

**_rosepetal13:_** Always glad to make you laugh. =)

**_severus's bane_**: Well, my brothers are protective, so I like to think Ron and Percy would be the same way.

**_starsmiles:_** Yes, Percy really needs to make some closure, doesn't he?

**_Tru Lys:_** … yes.


	19. The Bloody Baron

"I'm the one that got the Bloody Baron to put those on you."

Ron stared hard at the Grey Lady, trying hard to see a glimmer of a smile or laugh beneath the embarrassment now frozen on her face. Certainly he must have heard wrong; the Grey Lady wouldn't. . .

"You wouldn't do a thing like that." Percy's voice was utter composure, the way it went right before he ranted off a list of boring facts. "We were there, if you remember. It was the Bloody Baron doing everything. You just. . ." He faltered and glanced back at Ron.

Ron didn't think there was any polite way of saying "just stood there."

"I just observed, I know." The Grey Lady gave a sad smile and brushed the tears away. They stained her smoky-white gloves like cold vapor. "But I couldn't allow you to really guess what I was doing. Do you have any idea how improper it would be for any Ravenclaw, let alone the House Ghost, to do something so sneaky?"

It did seem more like a crummy Slytherin thing to do. Ron had somewhat come to terms with the fact that the Bloody Baron had done it. . . something inside his mind snapped. The Ravenclaws had always been somewhat decent!

He sprang through the air toward her, barely noticing as he knocked Percy out of the way. "This is your fault? This is your fault I'm tied to that git?"

"Hey!" But as far as Ron could tell, Percy was in complete agreement. Ron kept an eye on him, though, still waiting for more of some form of self-defense.

Most of her spectral tears seemed to have evaporated, but sadness still hung over her. "I'm afraid it is. I really do hope you'll accept my apology."

How could she make a show of such… whininess? Girls. "Do you have any ideas what it's like to be around him?"

"It can't be too horrible."

"But I don't understand," Percy said. His panic was beginning to rise. "We were all there. You did nothing."

With one gloved hand she rubbed at the tear stains as she shrugged. "I didn't do anything at the time. . . you must understand that aside from being a terrifying Slytherin ghost, the Baron is very easy to manipulate."

"But that means. . ."

"We're the ones that got manipulated!" Ron shrieked.

He felt a sudden jerk at his wrist; Percy had fled to the other side of the room where he was now glaring daggers at Ron. "I was trying to speak, Ron."

"That hurt! And it was on purpose!"

For the first time the faintest spark of annoyance flickered over the Grey Lady's face as her pouted mouth slid into a frown. "Well, no one can say I didn't offer you an apology. But apparently that wasn't the best idea. Perhaps I should explain myself. Unless, of course, Percy would like to speak?" Her frown deepened.

With a final sneer at Ron Percy shook his head.

"Good. You are so polite." She smiled and flipped her hair back. "Now it was really quite logical. My sister and I needed our. . . well, we wanted what we had left in the spirit world but had no way to go back for it."

Ron groaned. Did she really plan on recounting everything?

"So I decided that it would be best if I sent someone else to do it for me. But I highly doubted anyone would grant me such a favor, considering some ghosts can't even make short, non-permanent trips there! So I had to find another way. And when you, Ron, died and I overheard that annoying little fight you had with your brother—which, by the way, has never been accepted terms for such a punishment and never will be—well, an entire plan enfolded before me. I was perfectly aware of the Baron's obnoxious status he is so ridiculously proud of, and I was also perfectly aware that the two of you could not stand to be bound together for an entire century." She sighed. "The Baron does love torturing poor, innocent souls. He's also trying to see if he can't get Sir Nicholas to actually fight him. So all I had to do was give him a little suggestion and a push and, well, you have those lovely bits of rope on your wrists." She then had the nerve to laugh.

Percy was now the one staring at her in horror. "I never would have expected. . ."

"That's the idea, Mr. Weasley. Again, I am very sorry you didn't know. But it was the only way. So the Baron bound the two of you together. You found out about the ghost council; I counted that you would be interested in seeing if you could get out of your bind. And then I really must thank Ron for his ideas about the Veil. I tricked Nicholas into letting you go, and that was all I really needed."

Ron blinked. He wasn't sure he understood. "So. . . you expected us to go to the spirit world?"

Percy sighed.

The Grey Lady gave another tiny laugh and circled down to hover above an empty chair. "The past few weeks haven't been so bad, have they? Especially considering how time passes in the spirit world? So it's not an utterly horrible curse."

Not horrible? Ron found himself locking eyes with Percy. For some strange reason he had an urge to laugh. The Grey Lady had no idea.

"But cheer up." She pulled the envelope out of her pocket. "Now that I've what I want. . ."

"You can fix it," Percy said tersely. "As I was about to ask you to do before Ron interrupted me."

"Of course. I'm not that cruel."

"Fix it?" Ron echoed. What were they talking about? He held up his hand. The length of rope dangled blatantly around his wrist, the frayed edged swaying in the air. If the Grey Lady had made the Bloody Baron do this. . . surely she could make him undo it! It was as if he had walked into a barrier similar to that around the girls' dorms but much more pleasant in sensation. "We can be separated?"  
"You most certainly can," she said happily. "I really do feel bad about having to deceive you, but people are so unwilling to grant favors. I have no desire to curse you for an entire century."

"Yes!" Ron seized the rope. It still showed no signs of it coming off. But with one trip to the Bloody Baron. . .

"This is wonderful of you," Percy said, grabbing the Grey Lady's hand and kissing it. "I just hope you can forgive us for being an angry. And it was a clever course of logic, very worthy of Ravenclaw."

"Prat," Ron muttered. He didn't care if Percy heard. In a short time he could be as far from Percy as he wanted.

"Idiot," Percy returned, clearly with the same thought.

"Such brotherly love," the Gray Lady mused, clapping her now-free hands. "Well, I want to thank you again for your little service, so let's be off to the Baron now."

It was the best thing Ron had ever heard.

"The last time I saw him he was in the dungeons," she continued. "And that wasn't very long ago. So we'll try there." She immediately Vaporated.

The Bloody Baron was not in the dungeons; they actually found him in the stone halls just above, moaning rather overdramatically at a statue of a decapitated wizard.

The Baron? Ron suppressed a laugh. There was something wrong with all of that.

"Dear Baron," the Grey Lady said with a less-hidden giggle. "What do you think you are doing?"

His empty eyes widened in what might have been surprised. "I was. . . practicing."

Percy pretended to cough. That was it for Ron. His laugh broke out into what he had to cover as an entire fit of coughing. Which actually turned out to be difficult for a ghost.

The Baron's scabby face turned to Percy and broke into a sickening grin. "Ah, yes! The Gryffindor ghosts! How are you enjoying your punishment so far?"

Percy opened his mouth, but the Grey Lady spoke first.

"We actually just came to speak with you about that. Don't you think you could come up with a punishment that is more. . ." She circled her hands before her in an effort to churn ideas. "Creative?"

"Creative?" the Baron echoed.

"Not that your punishments are just and creative, of course."

"Of course they are!" He whirled away from the statue, ragged robes flailing around him like a dark, blood-stained halo. "These boys deserved what they got."

The Grey Lady actually flinched. After all her coolness and deception, it was a surprise to Ron. "I know, I know! But I suppose you couldn't challenge yourself. You know, pull out the best punishments you know."

Percy had slid closer to Ron. "What is she trying to do?" he whispered.

The Baron sniffed. "So. .. Rebeccah, you want me to undo their bindings and inflict something else on them? Exactly how many years do they have left?"

"Still a full century. But…"

"Rebeccah, I do tire of being known as the evil ghost of this school. I can be benevolent. And yet you want me to deal out sicker and harsher punishments? What do you take me for?"

During the Baron's speech, the Gray Lady had slowly backed away from him, the edge of her dress trailing like mist over the stone floor. "Really? Then imagine what you might prove if you simply… removed someone's punishment. Pardoned them."

The Bloody Baron as a nice guy? It was too disturbing a thought. But Ron kept his eyes on the two house ghosts. Perhaps the Grey Lady just might be able to pull this off.

But the Baron began to laugh. It was sickening sight, blood stains and scars swirling over his twisting face as he emitted a sound closer to a shrieking metal. "Mercy? Rebeccah, you are a Ravenclaw. Do you dare suggest that mercy robs justice?"

For the first time true fear came over the Grey Lady. "I. . ."

Ron glanced at Percy, than at the Baron and the Grey Lady. It wasn't working. Whatever she was trying to do was not working! The Grey Lady had tricked them, had lied to them, had forced Ron on the very day of his death into this stupid thing with Percy, all so she could get some stupid trinket from the spirit world. And now her plan to free them, her stupid apology, wasn't working.

Everyone knew that no one challenged the Bloody Baron.

He did not die to suffer through all of this. He hated being dead. He hated it, hated it, hated it. Everything rushed through him in one storm of fury, and then he heard a voice splitting through the air.

"What justice? The Grey Lady tricked you!"

The voice instantly died with all other noise.

Everyone was staring at Ron. Percy's arms looked ready to strangle.

Ron swore under his breath. Bloody hell, that had been his own voice.

With a cool sneer the Baron turned his empty eyes back to the Grey Lady, who had gone a shimmering pale grey. She was going to faint. If ghosts could do that.

"So," he said. "That little suggestion you gave me? Rebeccah. . . were you playing one of your little games?"

She quickly shook her head.

With a sharp cry he grabbed her wrist. "You would do such a thing? No one deceives the Bloody Baron! You can do it to the Friar all you want, but not me! What was it this time?"

"Ron, you are such an idiot!" Percy hissed. "Now he knows!"

Ron couldn't think of a single reply. He felt sick, whatever sickness was now possible without a body. It was his fault.

The Baron no longer seemed to notice them, but was now lost in a twisting rant at the Grey Lady.

"Perhaps we should just leave," Ron muttered.

Percy hesitated a moment before agreeing. "This isn't fair." His voice cracked, but he drifted past Ron and partially through the chill stone.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Ron froze, and Percy stuck his head back through.

The Grey Lady had vanished, no doubt fled back to the safety of Ravenclaw Tower. Stupid Ravenclaws. All that was left was the glaring face of the Bloody Baron.

"If you're interested," he said silkily, trailing a boney finger around his wrist. "You're not released from your bonds."

Hopefully that would be the only punishment for this.

"But I would like to thank you for revealing what that idiot prostitute of a House Ghost did to me."

Ron decided that he didn't want anymore thanks from anyone.

"I had placed you under this binding. I had ever right to. Maybe not the exact authority, but let's just let that slide. And I'm not going to undo my punishment just because the Ravenclaw ghost wants me to. She won't be tricking me again, that's for sure. But I will let you do something for me. And I'll even be willing to tell you what it is."

"And in return?" Percy's voice was shaking as he spoke.

"Snap." The Baron placed his wrists together, then yanked them away. "I'll shorten your sentence. And not even by a few years. Do this favor for me, and the bindings will be gone instantly."

"Just like that?" Ron asked. There had to be a catch. He tried to imagine Draco Malfoy offering such a deal. Which would end with Crabbe and Goyle attacking them. Good thing Ron was already dead.

The Baron sighed. "Yes. Just like that. I do like to imagine that I am fairer than… certain others."

"So what is this favor?"

"I don't think I said that I wanted it done now. I'll contact you about it later. In proper surroundings. I want to watch you suffer awhile longer."

"But-" Percy began.

"You're boring me," the Bloody Baron finished, glancing at the decapitated statue. "I have. . . other items of business to carry out. Peeves!" He vanished through the wall.

"That's not fair," Percy said after an awkward moment of silence.

Ron sighed. "You know he's not going to do it."

"Well, if you hadn't burst out like that the Grey Lady might have actually gotten somewhere." His tone was quick and sharp. "You can be such an idiot."

How many times had Percy said that to him that day? "Look, I'm sorry. I don't know what I was thinking."

"That's because you never think." Percy reached out a hand to wave effortlessly through the statue like fog.

"I was thinking!" He wasn't even sure what he meant by that.

"If you had been. . ." Percy's words slurred into nothingness, and he pulled his hand away from the statue. "Just. . . forget about it. Maybe the Baron will keep his word. Though I don't even want to imagine what he wants us to do."

Ron laughed, short and forced. "Yeah. Anything a Slytherin isn't willing to do. . . Well, the Bloody Baron is disgusting. Maybe he wants us to do something nice."

"He's not stupid, Ron."

If only he were. "It makes me almost glad we have the girls' little romance thing to look forward to."

Percy shook his head, muttering under his breath. "What is there problem? Especially Dream."

"She does seem to hate you. That's great of her."

"Well, I don't like her either. But what I meant is that crush she has on you."

Ron fell back into the wall. "What?"

Percy was giving one of his smiles, almost equal to one Fred or George would have pulled. "You know what I mean. It's funny. She's practically throwing herself at you."

She did pay him a lot of attention. He shuddered. "But. . .she's a ghost."

"So? So are you."

"It's different. She's. . ."

"Oh, for crying out loud. Hermione Granger is still alive and you aren't."

Ron flinched. "What--?"

Percy's smile faded, slipping into something almost apologetic. "I don't think you get that fact. I know you liked her.  
"I still like her!"

"I know." He returned to the statue, seeming to study the grotesque stone slashing of the neck. "You know, this could be Sir Nick."

How could Percy say that about Hermione? Ron forced himself to look. "Yeah. He'd wish."

"Maybe we should talk to him about all this."

"And what? Have the Grey Lady trick him into letting us do something for the Bloody Baron?"

Percy didn't reply, but tugged at the rope.

"Percy, it's not going to come off."

"It will if the Baron keeps his word."

Ron watched him for a long time, thinking. The Bloody Baron was a Slytherin. Slytherins were. . . well, Slytherins. But if there were any hope of undoing this.. . "Are we going to do this then?"

Percy met his gaze and gave another smile. "I am."

* * *

* * *

**SHOUT OUTS!**

_cAJUNpIPPENpIRATE:_ Oh, that girl will have plenty of annoyances.

_CharliesMommy:_ Here is your update!

_Crystal Lightening:_ Thanks! You're always so encouraging.

_Dr. Huff-Puff: _The crazy thing? Ginny is just really out of it. )

_duj:_ The envelope's contents aren't imporant. Right now.

_HiddenFlame42:_ Thanks!

_HotDog-Jo:_ Yup. Dang Ravenclaws.

_hydraspit:_ I want them to bond, too. So there will upcoming brotherly bonding.

_Kellalor:_ Bad Grey Lady. Uhoh indeed.

_Lady Meriadoc:_ Wow... I was worried about the Hermione and Ginny scene. Glad you liked it.

_liseli: _So it's good even with the bratty Grey Lady? Thanks!

_Phillipa of the Pheonix:_ Yup. Somehow Percy still has a heart. But he's been through a lot.

_rosepetal13:_ I couldn't leave out the Grey Lady! She's too useful.

_severus's bane: _I think Ron's bad luck also has something to do with it.

_Tru Lys:_ Hey, you already have the representative's identity narrowed down enough! So I won't tell you! P

_v-babe24:_ Never, ever, ever trust a woman. Especially a dead woman.

_xXNaziHaloXx:_ Yes, there are computers in the spirit world. Just for you. )


	20. Revenge of Ginny

Harry had to admit one thing: Charity Broadbent was pretty darn cute. For a Slytherin. And a girl three years his junior; he had always felt awkward with an age gap of over a year. Not that he had much experience on the relationship scene as it was. Well, apparently Charity was no pro herself; a blessing in disguise for at least she wouldn't expect anything.

Of course they had approximately been in Madame Rosmerta's tavern ten minutes.

Charity cleared her throat for the hundredth time and nervously slid a red strand of hair behind her ear. "I'm really flattered you asked me here, Harry."

He thought she sounded sincere. Hah. And Hermione said Charity had come only out of pity. But he couldn't sit there smugly, could he? "Well, I've been thinking about you for a while now..."

She gave a little squeak, nearly tumbling to the floor. The most she did was upset her butterbeer a little. "You have? Really? Oh, Harry, I don't know what to say!" She blushed, the red only increasing the brightness of her eyes.

She was quite pretty. Harry found himself smiling, deciding it was best he hadn't told the whole truth, that until a little over a week ago he had no idea who she was. But he had been thinking about her nonetheless, and so far it hadn't been a bad thing. Here he was, enjoying a tall glass of butterbeer on a warm autumn day with a cute Slytherin fifth year that actually liked him. Despite the fact they had never really talked. But you had to meet people somehow. And she was quite pretty. And she wasn't dating him because she felt sorry for him. Just because her name happened to be Charity. . . he made a mental note to tell Hermione how wrong she was later. She'd be furious. While Ron, on the other hand. . . .

He felt the now-familiar twinge of pain scrape through him, and the glass handle of the mug pressed hard against his skin. Ron, on the other hand, would never know. When would he stop assuming that Ron was still around? It had been almost a month. . . how long was he supposed to wait? But it all still felt so real.

"Harry?" Charity's voice sounded far away. "Harry, are you all right?"

He shook his head, jerking himself back to the land of the living and Charity's pretty face gazing worriedly at him. She reminded him of someone else. "Huh? Oh, sorry."

She nodded, a soft smile spilling out. "Don't apologize, Harry. You've been through a lot lately. I mean, you killed He-Who-Should-Not-Be-Named!"

He blinked, cringing inwardly. Lord Voldemort had been dead for nearly a month now and people still refused to call him by his proper name. It was pathetic. And yet he really couldn't blame anyone for doing such a thing. Not after everything that Voldemort had done. Not after what he had done to Ron.

"You just need to move on and to relax," Charity continued. "Though after everything you'll have to forgive me for saying that I have no clue how you are going to manage that."

Relax, yeah. That's what far too many people had been telling him, himself included. And yet after spending so many years dealing with Voldemort, it was scary to find nothing else before him. But that's where the relaxing part came in. He was doing that now, wasn't he? Heck, he was dating!

He gave another smile, one he didn't even have to force. He had to admit he was having fun already in their ten minutes of a date, not including the walk to Hogsmeade. Charity was surprisingly nice, even for a Slytherin. What low had he come to in taking out a Slytherin? "Thanks, Charity. I guess I need little reminders every now and then." Small talk, small talk. How did he do that? "So. . . you're thinking of trying out for Quidditch next year?"

"Quidditch!" She feigned a breathless swoon, and Harry had to laugh. "I can hardly wait for Quidditch next year. Draco Malfoy has that stupid policy against girls on the team, but he'll graduate at the end of the year and then the entire posse of us can take that team away from him." She giggled. "Did you know that he still sleeps with a teddy bear?"

"Teddy bear?" Harry laughed again. Amazingly how easily he could imagine Draco curled up in some dark, shadowed bed with a baby blue teddy bear snuggled under his chin. . . . No, it was mean to think such thoughts, considering Draco wasn't that bad.

"Oh, yes. Some really brave third year girls practically jumped Draco's friends Crabbe and Goyle and made them tell us all sorts of secrets about the secret lives of the seventh year boys. I swear, what this school is coming to . . . not to say that I don't appreciate the information."

"Now that's the kind of Slytherin action I like."

She flipped her hair back again, this time not quite as nervously. "Why, thank-you."

She was fun. If only he could figure out who she reminded him of. Was it wrong to be thinking that way on a date?

She picked up her mug, taking a long swig as if the entire school were present to watch her pretend to get drunk. Then her eyes widened, spreading out to deep bright circles of panic. In an instant the mug was back on the table, butterbeer sloshing everywhere and all that had been in her mouth shooting like a deranged fountain across the table.

"A bug!" Charity screeched, her voice an embarrassingly sharp knife against the usual din of the tavern. "There was a bug in my glass!"

A fat purple beetle was indeed swimming hurridly through the butterbeer, his tiny lets trying desperately to cling to the slippery glass.

"Maybe there was another one!" Her eyes were beginning to brim with tears. "Maybe I already swallowed it."

Harry had his own wave of panic. She wasn't going to start crying, was she?

"I think I'm going to be sick." Her face had gone pale. Maybe she really would faint this time.

Harry slid from his stool and ran to her side of the table. "Charity, are you all right? Don't be scared, it's just a bug."

She clutched his sleeve, nodding feverishly. "I know, I know. I'm so sorry, that was really embarrassing. It's just that I really, really hate bugs." Her eyes slid past him to her mug, and she again screamed. "Now there are three!"

And there were. Two more purple beetles had joined their friend for a swim. People nearby were checking their own glasses. One bug managed to climb to the rim.

Charity screamed a third time. Her nails dug painfully into Harry's skin. "What in the name of Salazar is going on?"

"Charity, please." They had become the main show of the tavern. It was really quite embarrassing. And the beetles, they had to be a charm, some little transportation spell or maybe even transfiguration of the butterbeer. "Just calm down and we'll go somewhere else."

Her eyes whipped on him with surprising harshness. "Is this you? Is this some sort of sick joke? Well, if you think it's going to impress me when I am terrified of bugs, then you are sadly mistaken." She jerked her arm away with an actual hiss—and slammed into the table hard enough to knock over her beetle-filled glass. The occupants promptly crawled toward her.

Harry's mind whirled. He had to do something. He had to. He just couldn't leave Charity there screaming while charmed beetles attacked her. "Charity, this isn't me."

She was too hysterical to hear. With one last shriek and a glare at him she raced, highly noticed, from the tavern.

For several too-long moments the room was silent.

Hermione would never let him hear the end of this. Some dream girl she turned out to be. He scooped some coins from his robe and dropped them on the table next to the beetles. Was anything going to go right in his life?

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a flash of long red hair leaving through the door. Charity? No, she was probably back to Hogwarts already. It couldn't be Ginny Weasley, could it?

Well, whoever it was, she had been laughing.

* * *

"I can't believe she did that." Somewhere amid all the stern disproval of Percy's voice was a thread of impressed reverence that Ron barely understood. "I can't believe she did something so. . . juvenile."

Ron slid his hand through the sharp shingling of the tavern roof, imagining that his now-faded hand had been severed in a freak accident he could probably blame Madame Rosmerta for. If that wouldn't be too mean. "Juvenile? Percy, Ginny is sixteen."

"Exactly." Percy looked down the road where their little sister was all but skipping along. "She is sixteen years old. She should know better than to. . ." He shook his head in absolute disgust. "Than to stick that insect hex in some girl's drink."

Ron pulled his hand away from the roof and laughed. It almost hurt how much he just wanted to chase after Ginny and compliment her on her brilliance. If that would do any good. "Hey, it was funny. Just because Fred and George did it to you twelve times—"

"It was not twelve times. It was not that many."

"Twelve times," he continued. "Doesn't mean that it is an evil prank. That Charity girl will get over it eventually."

Percy gave a dry smirk, eyes still on Ginny. "People wind up in St. Mungo's for things like that."

"I think she'll get over the bugs." Ron could still see them in his mind, purple and bulging and ready to storm poor Charity while Harry just stood there. Had Harry found it funny? He needed something to laugh at. The way people could be, moping around for a month. Ron hated it. What was the point of dying if people were going to act that way? "Besides, I think you thought it was funny."

"No, I did not find that at all funny."

But Ron had heard a distinctive laugh from his brother during the event. "At least it saves us from doing anything drastic."

Ginny was no longer visible, so Percy sighed and turned to Ron. "Drastic? Don't they still want you to work Ginny or something like that?"

"Me? I think they're plotting that we both do it." The week since the girls' decision had entered in disaster for every time they ran into Cornelia or Jillie or Dream, until Ron scarcely dared do anything but hide in a corner and hope they wouldn't come looking for him. Except Percy had other plans that did not include hiding in a corner.

"What about the Bloody Baron?" Percy asked, hovering down next to Ron. "What do you want to do about that?"

The Bloody Baron. Ron groaned. He had all but given himself up to the terrible fact that he would be tied to Percy for the next century. The Bloody Baron was a Slytherin, and if he wasn't even going to try and contact them in a week then he probably wasn't going to at all. The Baron was just playing a sick game. Or continuing the one he had begun the moment that airhead of a Ravenclaw ghost had played her own little trick. Somehow he wished he could have just stayed in the spirit world, even if it did mean that Percy was still always within fifty feet. "Do about what? He has nothing for us to do; he just said that to make us leave him alone."

"Hmm." Percy stroked the edge of his glasses. "I'm sure he has something. He couldn't have become so powerful in. . . ghost circles or whatever you want to call him if he were a liar."

"Percy, he's a bloody Slytherin."

"And they aren't all bad. Come on, be fair."

Ron rolled his eyes. He knew Percy was right.

"I have a theory," he continued, pretending not to notice. He was always good at pretending; the real pleasure came from the fact he was just bottling up inside. Fred and George had discovered that years ago and were eager to share it with Ron and Ginny. "The Baron just might have some unfinished business. I mean, look at him. No one even knows how he died, and yet he's just swimming in blood."

Another perfect eye-rolling moment. "You think he wants us to give him a bath?"

"I'm just thinking that we should trust him. We have no reason to."

Since when was Percy being the hopeful one? "You know, maybe we shouldn't even bother. It would only be a hundred years, and maybe that just. . . flies by when you are a ghost or whatever." He couldn't believe he was saying that. "And there's always the spirit world. We weren't there very long, but it was two weeks out here. Maybe if. . ."

"The way everyone has been talking, I don't think we'd be allowed to stay in the spirit world very long at all." Percy instinctively ducked a bird flying past. "Yet."

"Yet?" Ron stared at him. "What do you mean by—"

Just then Harry left the tavern, bewilderment crawling over his face.

"Harry," Ron whispered. His concentration on hovering just at the roof's surface slipped. The sharp-looking shingles rushed at his eyes as he plummeted through the roof.

"Ron?" Percy called curiously from somewhere above.

He caught himself just before he dropped through some old man's head. The air braked around him, jerking him to a stop. Rather uncomfortable, when he considered the air shouldn't have any affect on him whatsoever. He had just been so happy to see Harry. . .despite the fact that he had seen him just minutes earlier. But then he had been with . . . girls. Now he was alone. So often it was difficult to find Harry alone, and then it was almost too much of a temptation for Ron. Would it really make Harry feel better if he just. . . appeared? Went visible for even just a few seconds, like he had done before Hermione? Which had been a little more than an awkward experience. But still the temptation was there, like it was with everyone. If he just dared talk to them, like Ginny or Harry or anyone.

On the other hand—the idea horrified Ron even as he thought it—on the other hand, it just might be really hilarious to scare Harry like that. And extremely cruel.

Well, it was a stupid thought anyway. He would just have to accept the fact that he was dead. He shot back up through the ceiling where Percy was still watching him with limited curious.

"You're still not thinking of talking to him, are you?" Percy asked.

Percy was too good at reading minds, but Ron clenched his teeth against any tempting reply.

Percy's eyes lingered on him a few more moments before he shrugged and stared up at the distant school. "I still can't believe Ginny would do something like that."

Ron scanned the area for Harry, but apparently he had disappeared into another shop, or something. "Yes, well, the best part is that no one even put her up to it." Whatever ghostly version he had of a heart twisted unexpectedly inside of him. "She really wanted to sabotage the date."

Now it was Percy's turn to nearly fall through the tavern roof. "Sabotage? What do you mean, she wanted to sabotage it?"

Ron suddenly realized that he had never really much thought of Ginny's motives himself. "I don't know. . . I guess she still does like Harry." He had certainly considered that before, but even when he had been alive and even encouraging them a few years ago, Ginny had never done anything more drastic than that cheesy card third year. And now she was putting bugs in girls' drinks? She was either still chasing after Harry or executing some twisted revenge.

Percy groaned and buried his face in his hands.

"Did I just hear what I think I heard?" A familiar face framed by a fountain of long, silvery hair popped into view. "I'm so proud! You two are actually out here on your own accord. . . I just saw Ginny Weasley looking very pleased with herself. But I'm sure you, Ron, did most of the work."

Percy groaned again.

"I'm not pleased to see you, either," sniffed Dream. She spun closer to Ron, hair trailing around her like water.

"I thought they wouldn't find us out here," Ron whispered to Percy.

"I heard that," she sang. "Well, you weren't anywhere at the school, and Jillie and Cornelia had no idea where you were—much to Cornelia's insane disappointment, Percy—and then I heard that your friend Harry Potter had a date. . . well, I'm not stupid, you know."

"I beg to differ," Percy murmured.

Dream didn't even flinch. "You really are a jerk. But I'm not here to see you. I'm here to see Ron." Her face lit into a smile.

_But what I meant is that crush she has on you. _Ron suddenly heard Percy's taunt running through his head. Bloody hell, he had been serious. Ron watched in horror as Dream came closer to him, all smiling and hair and. . . he was going to faint, if ghosts could do that.

"Dream," he heard himself stammer. "What do you mean you're here to see me?" It couldn't be real; she was a ghost! And so was he. And Hermione was still alive. And. . . oh, no. Out of the corner of his eye he could see his brother fighting a laugh. No, he was even fighting it.

"I came to see you," Dream said brightly. "Because I think you are cute."

Well, that was a compliment, but. . . Ron edged backwards. "I'm not cute!" Did he just admit that?

"Sure you are. In fact, you are probably the cutest ghost at Hogwarts, since Cedric Diggory apparently went to the spirit world."

So now he was being compared with Cedric Diggory?

Percy cleared his throat. "You know, Dream, as far as I know, Ron has never kissed a girl."

Dream giggled, actually smiling back. "Really?" She returned her attention to Ron.

He could leave, he realized. He was actually getting quite good at Vaporating. He could just disappear and hope that Dream wouldn't find him for some time. Except. . . he glanced at Percy, who again was reading minds, for he held up his right wrist. The message was clear: Percy planned to fight any attempt for Ron to leave. Did he have such a desire to torture others?

Dream was moving in even closer.

And all Ron could see was Hermione.

Taking an instinctive and unnecessary breath, he whirled away just as Dream dove in.

With a shriek she tumbled down, catching herself just before the shingles. "Ron!"

Ron moved even farther away. Who knew if she might try again? "Percy, I want to leave."

There was no reply. Percy was laughing harder than Ron had ever seen him. It was almost scary and completely unnatural.

For a moment all Ron could do was stare. "Percy?"

Percy nodded, fighting to control himself. "I'm sorry," he managed. "Dream, I'm really sorry."

Dream was back in balance, considerably flustered. "Are you laughing at me? Well, I'll be telling Cornelia all about this! Oh, and Ron?"

Ron felt the faintness take hold of him again.

"This doesn't change anything, so don't worry." Then she was gone.

"Ron," Percy said between a few final laughs. "That has to be one of the best things you have done."

* * *

It would be far too easy and far too cruel to ask Harry how the date with Charity Broadbent had gone, but it was the only thing Hermione could think of as she watched him climb through the portrait hole, his face the utter visage of confusion. Somehow she managed to resist. After all, every single Gryffindor knew the story. Ginny could be quite good at that kind of thing.

But Harry seemed prepared anyway. "Don't ask," was his first remark. "Don't ask."

Hermione smiled behind her textbook. "I wasn't going to."

"I think she permanently hates me now." Harry slumped down on the couch next to hers. "Charity does."

Well. . . perhaps all of the premonitions had been wrong. Hermione's smile faltered. Ron would have loved to hear about this sort of thing. "I wouldn't worry about Charity too much." That news was recent, anyway. "Apparently her pillows in her dorm attacked her. Some mischievous charm, or something."

He grumbled a reply, a tiny smile appearing. "Really? So who dared approach the Slytherin area?"

Hermione had promised Ginny she wouldn't say.

**SHOUT OUTS!!!**

**_XXNaziHaloXx: _**As always, thanks so much! Eh... I actually have spare time between studies and I'm still not writing. I'm just bad.

**_v-babe24: _**Evvvil computer!

**_Tru Lys:_** You've already met the representative. )

**_The House of Concentus:_** Hey, I love Old English. Thanks so much for your review! It really made my day!

**_Tabitha78:_** I have a little theory about the Baron, so I had to drag in his intrigue.

**_starsmiles:_** Technically, the decapitated wizard was a statue, but it is a slight reference to Nick. What's in the envelope: it's not terribly important, but you will find out and it is at least somewhat meaningful to the story.

**_SirIsaac: _**Thank-you so much! That means a lot to me.

**_rosepetal13:_** It's not terribly important, what's in the envelope, but you will find out! It's going to be one of those theme things....

**_Poemzie: _**Well, I'm glad you don't find it utterly depressing! What a compliment! I really like what you said about Ron and Percy. And yes, they will talk things out. Eventually. I have to have all sorts of bonding. And yes, the Bloody Baron will dish out an assignment soon. Thanks so much for your comments!

**_Neoma:_** You shall find more about both the histories of the Baron and the Grey Lady later on. It's so sweet of you to feel bad for Ron. By the way, you are so one of my new favorite writers!

**_Midnight Dove:_** Yeah, well, school sucks. You know, I actually became a Grey Lady fan by writing her in.

**_meenyrocks:_** Thanks! I never really thought of the Grey Lady's invovlment as clever, just as a plot device, so I really appreciate that.

**_liseli:_ **I haven't explained this in full yet, but the Grey Lady is a school ghost and has too many connections to this world. Plus she hasn't been back to the spirit world in so long, and that makes it even more difficult. Great question.

**_Lahar: _**You reviewed every single chapter! Wow! Thanks so much! And thanks also for your critiques; I really appreciate them.

**_Lady Meriadoc:_** Yes, evil Barons rock!

**_hydraspit:_** I'm all about character stuff as well. Great fun bonding stuff.

**_Hydrangea777:_** Thanks! Cliffies are too much fun.

**_HotDog-Jo:_** Thanks! When are you updating?

**_Hiddenflame42:_** The Baron has something different in mind than what the Grey Lady wanted... Percy actually hits pretty close to it in this chapter.

**_Eohthen lord of Rohan:_** Actually no, I don't think a century is too harsh, considering it is the Bloody Baron.

**_Duj:_** Is the surprising a good thing?

**_Dr. Huff-Puff:_** Actually, the Baron is going to be more creative and cruel than sending them back to the spirit world.

**_Crystal Lightning:_** I'm glad you can appreciate twists. So... when are you updating?

**_ArcherofDarkness:_** Ravenclaws have always struck me as manipulative. )


	21. And More Revenge

Fred heaved the box onto the countertop with a cringe and a groan, then lay for a moment over the cardboard, panting. "Bloody hell, George, exactly what did you put into this new formula?"

George grinned from the ladder, where he was busy stocking shelves. "Nothing," he replied innocently. "Just whatever you slid into the directions."

"What directions?"

"The ones you gave me." Still the perfect innocence.

Fred gazed suspiciously at the box. "These are supposed to be canary crèmes."

A box tumbled from George's hand. "Oops."

It was clear Fred was fighting an urge to scream, but instead he gazed for a long time at his twin, than ripped open the large box. "Cute. A weight spell."

George laughed and accioed the fallen box back onto the shelf. "Don't worry; it won't affect anything else."

"I don't know..." Fred took out of one the now lead-heavy candies and weighed it carefully in his palm. "Maybe people will pay us more for these if they think it's different."

"Fred, I love your thinking."

"Except that would be morally wrong and if Mum found out..." Fred laughed and dropped the candy to the countertop with a thud. "Well, I was just kidding anyway."

George also laughed. "I wasn't. Ow!" He caught the candy as he fell from his head and chucked it back at his brother.

Ron instinctively moved as the canary crème sailed uncomfortably close to him. Even then he could still feel the rush of pressure as it grazes just past his neck. "I don't know, Percy, I think they're having enough fun already." He ducked another candy. A war had begun.

Percy smiled from his post just above the shop door. Ron was beginning to fear any situation where Percy dared smile; on one hand it was fun, but... it certainly wasn't natural for anyone like him. "Come on. I'm surprised you weren't the one to suggest it. When you first died didn't you find it fascinating that you could just stick your hand into someone and leave it there and they couldn't see you or even much feel you...." His voice trailed off as he frowned. "That's kind of a disturbing concept."

Ron missed avoiding a small box of fake wands that sailed through his head. "I think I was fascinated enough by the fact that I couldn't touch anyone. I didn't prolong it." And yet it was an interesting idea. He remembered first grabbing at Harry, feeling nothing but that strange sensation of heat. He hadn't really wondered what the living might feel in return. And yet here he was, half-dragged all the way from Hogwarts to his brothers' shop on Diagon Alley.

"It's Fred and George," Percy reminded him. He drifted away from the door to where George was using his ladder as a fortress in a now-messy shop floor, arm outstretched. "Haven't you ever wanted to seek some revenge?"

Ron actually smiled. "I thought you would be above revenge! You do realize that you were the butt of half of their pranks."

Percy sniffed. "Too well do I know that. Well, it's not like they can kill me now for any repercussion." With an almost evil grin he slid his hand, invisible, through George's neck—Ron shuddered—and held it.

Immediately George shivered, but Percy didn't move.

"What the--?" George shook his head, accidently avoiding a well-aimed acidic ink bottle that smashed with a mess into the opposite wall. "Is it suddenly cold in here?"

Fred took the advantage to make another throw. "Hah. You fail to disarm me."

"I'm serious!"

Ron had to laugh. "They're never serious," he said.

"You're never serious," Fred practically echoed.

Still utterly unaware of Percy's presence, George grabbed an armload of trick wand boxes from the shelf and tossed them down at Fred. "It's you! You've learned some..." He searched for a weird. "Some freezing spell and didn't tell me about it."

Fred laughed and shielded his face with his arms and the boxes tumbled over him. "La la la! Your mumbo jumbo still isn't working!"

"But my neck is still cold!" George jerked his head around, but Percy's arm followed.

Suddenly it was more than Ron could believe. Something like this couldn't be happening, not by Percy. Percy actually torturing one of the twins—and George completely clueless. Evidently hell had frozen over. And yet after all the torture the twins had done to Percy. . . even he couldn't avoid revenge very long. Ron laughed as he watched George now wriggling in almost-pain.

The twins hadn't been harmless to him over the years...

With Percy's freezing spectral hand in his neck, George was being slowly rendered defenseless to Fred's attacks. That couldn't be fair.

"You're on Fred's side!" Ron called. "We have to make this even." He sailed over to Fred.

For a moment he paused. Strange. He hadn't been this close to Fred in... months. Fred and George had the shop in London, Ron had school. . . that didn't make it easy to sit next to each other at the dinner table or something. And then that night. . . he hadn't even seen the twins in months, not until Percy suggested they pay a visit to help Ron recover from Dream's little attack.

But this wasn't time to reminisce. With a wink at Percy, he plunged his hand into Fred's head, the red hair curling around and through his arm like mold. It was familiar, the strange heat. But he had never held his hand into the living so long before, and the comfort of warmth didn't last long.

Fred didn't seem to be too pleased, either. He snapped his head around, Ron almost losing focus. "What is that?"

"Brain freeze," Ron muttered. His hand was getting too warm, but... there really was some sick pleasure in actually getting the better of the twins.

"It's not fair to put your little charm on yourself!" George called.

Fred managed a laugh and another well-placed canary crème. "I believe you're the one who should be taking that."

If Ron didn't know his brother so well, he would have certainly believed an actual fight was going on. And he himself wasn't harming anyone—he was merely aiding the fight. Was that at all a crime? There had been fights like this before—innocent little spouts full of hysterics and pillows and Mum's good china and whatever else was available. It was good to be in one again. Even if his hand did feel like it was on fire. Amazing Percy could stand it that long.

As if on cue, Percy, grimacing, pulled his hand away and shook it. "That really burns," he gasped. "You wouldn't think it would, but it does."

Now George had the upper hand. Not that it mattered. The shop was already a disaster area. But if it didn't matter. . . Summoning his strength, Ron shoved his hand farther into Fred, who gasped. Perhaps this was cruel. Sort of. But fun.

"I can't believe you would come up with something like this," he said to Percy, who had drifted down next to him to watch the battle.

Percy shrugged, hardly flattered. Ron should have known. "Well, I didn't originally think that I'd go freeze people that way. But it's the only way they. . . the living. . . can actually feel us. You remember back at Hogwarts, when you were alive, walking through Sir Nick or someone."

Ron did. "Funny we can do that people now."

Fred shuddered again, still trying to keep up his defense against his twin.

Percy gave a low chuckle. "Yes, hilarious."

"It'd be even more fun to be the one throwing things. Like Peeves."

"Peeves isn't like us."

Another painful reminder. He could barely stand the feel of his arm now, and reluctantly pulled it from Fred. So that was all he could do. He caught himself just in time; he was slowly learning that it wasn't worth feeling sad. Because it had been fun, delivering that limited agony to the twins. Still, throwing stuff while invisible would be even more so. Maybe even. . .

The idea was out before he could stop himself. "What if we appeared to them?"

Percy whirled at him, his glasses nearly tumbling off. "Ron, we've been through this. It would be a stupid thing to do."

Of course. He was perfectly aware of that. The Hermione incident, where she now believed she was crazy, was proof enough. "But if we did it right."

Percy sighed, dodging the fall of a box that would have gone right through him. "And exactly how do you suggest we do it right? Anyone do it right? What exactly does that mean?"

Ron opened his mouth to answer, then shut it. He had no clue.

"It's easier this way for everybody." Percy's voice had softened, almost drifting into an apology. "We're dead, and that's what they know. Look at Fred and George. You died a month ago. They seem fine."

"The twins single-handedly destroying their own store." He smiled. Yes, the only thing that would make it for perfect for them was if the place belonged to someone else. They certainly looked happy. And, to his surprise, he actually felt hurt.

"So this is where you've been! Are you trying to avoid dream?"

A crackle of flames made him turn around. Jillie hovered in front of a display of mini-bombs, slightly visible behind her hair and freckles. Next to her was the floating ball of fire that was Cornelia.

Were they all stalking them today?

"Hello," Percy said stiffly. Ron sensed him back away. That wasn't fair. Ron was the one who had actually gone through the Dream incident.

"Hi, Percy," said Cornelia's voice from amid the blue ghostly flames. "Hi, Ron. Look, we didn't mean to follow you here, but—"

Jillie shushed her. "We heard all about Ginny Weasley today and we just came to say that we are very impressed."

It took Ron a moment to figure out what she was talking about. Ginny's little bug hex. Jillie thought. . . "Yeah!" Somehow he managed to express enthusiasm. "I'm glad you like it. It was my idea—"

"Our idea," put in Percy.

Ron rolled his eyes. "My idea. And so we did what you said and—"

Jillie blinked as a canaray crème slammed through her arm. "Nice try. Unless you somehow managed to find Ginny napping outside the girls' dormitories, we are impressed with only her."

"But she ruined that date," Percy said, panic edging its way into his voice. "I don't want her with Harry, but if she's attempting herself. . . isn't that what you want?"

"Yes, that's what we want, and we think it's really funny and cute that she did that, but it'd be so much more fun if you were involved! We wanted you to talk to her in her sleep or something. I mean, you two are her brothers!"

"And I still don't want to be involved."

"Careful." The fire was starting to slide off of Cornelia. "We could find a male version of Charity Broadbent—or even worse—for your sister, someone you really wouldn't want her dating."

Jillie whistled approvingly. "Cornelia actually made a threat. I'm becoming impressed with a lot of people today. Especially you, Ron. I heard what you did to Dream. She's been talking about you for the longest time and then. . ." She laughed and even Cornelia managed a giggle. "I'm sorry, but it was terribly cruel."

"Then why are you laughing?" Ron asked. Suddenly an image of Dream coming at him was before his eyes.

"Because it means you probably like her, if you reject her like that."

Oh, for crying out loud.

"It must be nice to have girls throwing themselves at you," Percy teased. "Even if they are insane."

Cornelia blushed silver, and Jillie laughed harder.

"Oh, dear, I'm sorry." She managed to end her laughter. "I'm completely forgetting why we came all the way to London to find you. It is to remind you of what you agreed to do for us."

Ron felt as if the box that had just been thrown through him had actually managed to hit him.

"Oh, no," Percy began.

"It'll be so easy! Ginny's plans are secure. She's going home the weekend after this one. And unless she has some sort of barrier around her room there, which I doubt, you can work on her there."

"Why can't you do it at school?" Ron asked. "You can get into the girls' dorms just fine."

Jillie made a face. "Eh, it's not as fun that way. We actually like going into the boys' dorms. And since you're not even helping with your friend Harry in a place you actually can go. . . you know what, I can't even believe I'm talking about this. We already discussed it."

But that would mean going back to the Burrow. . . it only took one look to realize that Percy felt the same way.

"I could join you if you wanted," Cornelia quietly volunteered.

"Ooh!" Jillie finally noticed the shop around here. "This is fun! I've never actually been in here, though I've heard all the students talk about it. So your brothers own it?" She sailed down to a corner display of fake vomit. "If we had stuff like this when I was alive. . ."

"There's nothing to prevent you from being trampled to death by sheep," Ron said. "Though if you wanted to bug sheep you could. . ."

"You're not actually giving her more ideas?" Percy hissed.

He paused. "I am, aren't I?"

"Is it this much fun when they aren't throwing stuff at each other?" Jillie continued. "I'm assuming the place is closed; if anyone walked in here, they'd die immediately."

Ron glanced at the window where the sign hung. The shop was indeed open. And Fred was now standing on the counter wielding a trick beater club like a sword.

"Someone probably will die." Percy gave something between a laugh and a groan. "Let's go back to Hogwarts while the girls are distracted."

"Before they toss anymore plans upon us," Ron agreed. "Look, Cornelia! Fake fire that burns realistically!" He pointed at a shelf near the back of the shop.

Vaporating was becoming easier and easier, he realized. He could see it perfectly in his mind, almost every detail of the Gryffindor common room. And he getting there before Percy good. It was much more fun to the be one jerking the other around. He felt the air swirl around him—strange for a ghost—and he was there, Percy appearing next to him only a second later.

"I hate when you don't warn me," he muttered.

"You did it to me all the time."

The common room was empty; apparently everyone was at class. Kind of refreshing to not have the first years running around screaming.

Then Cornelia popped out behind them. "You're just running away from everyone today, aren't you?"

Percy really did groan. "You followed us?"

"I wasn't done talking to you."

She was almost as bad as Dream, Ron thought.

She smiled, her fingers tugging mildly at her hood. "You know, you really don't have to go see Ginny next weekend if you don't want to."

Reverse psychometry, he realized. Or whatever that Muggle thing was called that Hermione and Harry had always talked about. It was just another trick the girls were playing. Cornelia would tell them they didn't have to go whisper commands of dating Harry to Ginny, and that would mean they would have to. They thought they were so twisted and smart. Well, he wasn't going to fall for it. "But earlier you said that we had to."

"That was Jillie," Percy pointed out.

Cornelia shrugged. "She can get. . . worked up sometimes. She's been dead for centuries; she's too used to being a ghost and needs something to entertain herself."

"Too used to being a ghost?"

She shrugged again, almost embarrassed. "I've been dead since the World War II and I'm still not used to it. Every so often you still think that you can touch something. Or be mad at someone. Not that my death was anyone's fault, so I don't have to have issues like Moaning Myrtle does. But really, you can't tell me it's not weird sometimes."

"I've only been dead for a month," Ron said. "I'm not used to anything."

"Bad example," she said with a small laugh. "Well, I also came to ask you something else. Not a command. Not even a favor. At least not really. My deathday is next week, and sometimes I like to have a few friends in the Ravenclaw common room or somewhere. . ."

"You're inviting us?" Percy asked.

Cornelia blushed again.

"A deathday party?" He remembered when he had attended Nearly Headless Nick's his second year. One of the more miserable times of his life. Nick's had been depressing, so why would Cornelia's be any different? "Why would anyone want to celebrate their death? Not that Percy's isn't fascinating."

"Shut up," Percy murmured.

Cornelia stared at him. "You told Ron how you died? You haven't told the rest of us."

For a moment Ron considered bringing up the poisoned broccoli. No, it really would be too cruel.

She studied Percy for a moment, than shook her head. "Well, Ron, what else are we supposed to celebrate? I mean, birthdays are kind of pointless since we're dead. We have to some fun in the afterlife."

"It's still a depressing idea."

"So are many things. Are you going to come?"

Dream would probably be there.

Percy sighed. "Sure, we'll come."

She shrieked in delight and threw her arms around him. "Oh, we're going to have so much fun."

Percy was absolutely stunned. Ron laughed. It was strange to see a girl at his brother. Not that he and Penelope Clearwater had been a pleasant site.

"Oh, sorry." Cornelia immediately backed away, looking very flustered. "There's Nearly Headless Nick. Perhaps I should ask him."

Why was everyone sneaking up on them?

Apparently Nick didn't look ready to be invited to anything, because fear sank into Cornelia's eyes as she shrank away with a barely audible "Sir Nick."

Percy turned around. "Is there something wrong?"

Nearly Headless Nick didn't look angry at all, so apparently they had done nothing wrong. But it was a different sort of inapproachability: His already pale face was blanched with terror.

"The Bloody Baron just spoke to me," he murmured, clenching at the ruffle around his neck. "It's usually best if you ignore him and he ignores you and—"

And no one came to complain about it.

"At least I was lucky enough it doesn't involve me," Nick continued. He locked eyes with Ron. "What exactly have you done to upset him further?"

Cornelia gave a small cry. Ron felt like doing the same. Had Nick found out about the whole conspiracy? Ron glanced at his brother. Percy, fortunately, looked utterly calm.

"I'm not sure what you mean, Sir Nicholas," he answered.

Nick glanced back at the wall, as if expecting the Bloody Baron to storm in. "He says he wants to meet with you. Apparently he has a task he wants you to start on immediately."

* * *

* * *

**Author's Note:** Credit for the conversation regarding the party goes to my darling Lady Kazaana.

**Shout Outs to My Beloved Readers: You guys are so amazing. Thanks for all your help and comments.**

_ArcherofDarkness: _And I bet Draco has given his teddy bear a very embarrassing name. I have a white stuffed pig!

_Crystal Lightning:_ The best part is that Ginny wasn't properly mischievous until book 5. And then she was delightful. Go Ginny!

_Dr. Huff-Puff:_ Lol! I'm glad you actually imagine Ron's face! The poor guy. And yes, Ginny still does like Harry. That, or she just likes being mean.

_duj:_ Yeah, I really should give out more info that I do.

_Erisinia:_ Lol, my brothers—and sisters—also beat up on each other. But we also have to defend each other. Great how it works out like that. Yeah, I always thought Fred and George were very mean to Percy. Heck, I thought they were mean to Ron at times. No wonder Percy has such issues. But yes, there is nothing like bonding.

_HiddenFlame42:_ I accidently stuck a 12 reference in there? Oh dear. I'm good, aren't I? Can you point it out for me? Please?

_HotDog-Jo:_ Thanks!

_hydraspit:_ Harry/Ginny forever! But I did get attached to Charity. Maybe I'll find a boyfriend for her later.

_Kellalor:_ Of course Ginny's fixing the problem herself! She's not a damsel-in-distress waiting for ghosts to set her up. She can wreak her own havoc!

_Krenya alenak:_ You are so helpful. Thanks for the advice! )

_Lady Kazaana:_ She's not in love with Percy, persay.... Come on, you know what a hopeless romantic I am.

_Lady Meriadoc:_ Rudolph the Red-Nose Reindeer? Lol! I think you just ruined that chapter for me.

_Lahar:_ Don't worry. I don't intend any intense Dream/Ron. I just thought it would be funny if she had a crush on him and actually tried to take it places. But she is a very nice girl ghost....

_liseli:_ I figure that if it's a one-time character (which Charity is) the only way to make them memorable is to make them fun. Glad you liked her.

_LJ Fan:_ You are so forgiven. Here's a lollipop. So my story is complex? It's actually a lot more complex than I ever intended it to be. Here is a promise: Harry and Ron WILL talk.

_meenrocks:_ Oh no! Death by fanfiction! But what a way to go!

_Neoma:_ Teehee. Your mom sounds fun. School is stressful. Very stressful.

_Pline:_ I am a Ginny/Harry shipper. Therefore, Ginny is still mad about Harry.

_Poemzie:_ I think the only reason Ron wants Harry and Ginny together is because Harry is the only guy he trusts. Percy doesn't like Harry, so that makes it all harder. But yeah, it's hard to make guys work at anything involving romance. Well, the girls earlier were whispering things to Harry, but it probably would be more appropriate to have Ron do that.

_rosepetal13:_ Mm. Muffins. Here, have a lollipop.

_SirIsaac:_ Thanks! I've always had fun with dialogue. Sometimes I think I do a little too much, but oh well.

_Starsmiles:_ You thought it was original? Thanks. Actually, my roomie was watching _The Mummy_, and that has bugs in it...

_Tabitha78:_ Thanks! You're right on: The Baron's request involves his death. Can you guess what that might be?

_Tru Lys:_ Well, Ginny has taken me hostage until I reveal the representative. She said you told her to.

_v-babe24:_ You know I just love torturing you.

_XXNaziHaloXx:_ Ginny taking revenge against the world... no, I didn't intentionally mean it that way, but it is a good way at looking at the situation. You are so useful for analyzing. Yay! But as for Dream seducing Ron and using him to take over the world and then dragging it all down the hell... you weren't supposed to figure that out yet! Curse you!


	22. The Baron's Request

_This chapter is dedicated to Dr. Huff-Puff, who wanted a Snape cameo. And it's dedicated to everyone else as well. You guys are amazing! Thanks for supporting and even criticizing this story! You're so helpful! I've made 500 reviews! Lollipops and cookies for everyone! And it's dedicated to UnicornVampire3z, the 500th reviewer!_

* * *

The Bloody Baron. Insanity in its purest form. As if Ron had ever expected anything like this to happen. He almost couldn't sort it out in his head: the random facts, the chaos of the past month, all that imprinted Slytherin prejudice. Why would the Bloody Baron want to see him?

To chew him out in another messy session of ghostly plottings. How in the world did so many nasty ghosts manage to have positions in Hogwarts?

"Stop muttering to yourself," Percy said. "It's annoying."

"I wasn't muttering." Had he?

Why would the Baron want to see them again? It seemed as if only a week had passed. . . well, only one had, but. . .

"Ron, please do not make me shove you into that gargoyle over there. The Bloody Baron is actually attempting to keep a promise. As you were so keen on believing."

Ah, the familiar sounds of Percy's whining. Ron almost had to laugh. It was probably just as irritating as whatever thinking aloud he himself was doing, but it was definitely Percy. He had always been so eligible for taunting when he had been stressed about something. During life, at least. That nasty, snotty tone that Ginny had been an expert at mimicking. . . Ron cringed at a fresh blast of pain. He would think he'd be used to it all now. Apparently he was used to Percy's complaining.

It was all so obvious. Whatever Percy said, he was even more afraid at the prospect of seeing the Bloody Baron. A third time.

And again his own panicking returned.

Why did he care so much? The Bloody Baron was an idiot who had actually been tricked by the Grey Lady. Who happened to be a Slytherin. Who happened to be covered in blood. Exactly what task did he have in mind?

Ron nearly drifted into the wall he was passing. He hadn't been this scared before. What was wrong this time? How had Harry managed to put up with all of this?

Yet with Voldemort defeated, Harry probably didn't need to.

He shook his head, trying to control his panic. Clearly it was his turn to suffer.

"Sir Nick said this room," Percy said slowly, gesturing at a wooden door that looked oddly familiar. Not that Ron could place it. Now that he was dead and not subject to classes, he guessed he had just let them all slide together in one gigantic memory blur. "He had better be in there. And if he is, he better not be taking back our deal."

Ron actually did run through the wall, disgustingly unpleasant. Stone just did not feel good on his spirit body. "Percy, thank-you for that uplifting thought."

Percy shrugged. "Hey, it happens." He slipped through the door.

Ron waited to hear a scream. Nothing.

Then, "Ron!" and another painful wrench at his wrist. How had they managed to break the fifty feet? Not wanting to be dragged, he flew at the door and through the strange mess of splintering wood.

It was Snape's classroom.

He swore. No wonder it had looked so familiar, though apparently he had tried to push the horrible image from his memory. It was just like the last time he had suffered through a class there. Rows of cauldrons. Cupboards full of the measly supplies students were allowed. The tables covered in burns. Snape's desk, complete with the greasy freak working on some papers.

He corrected the insult in his mind. Snape wasn't so bad. He had been very helpful in the Order. In the end.

"Pay him no mind, Mr. Weasley, this doesn't concern him."

The Bloody Baron. He had showed. His gaunt figure was nestled comfortably in—or above—an old chair, his tattered robes looking especially bloody. Percy hung a safe distance away, a look of absolute sickness disguised by diplomacy.

"I grew bored watching your suffering," the Baron said, yawning. "I know it's only been a week, but I've decided that this is something I really want. This favor."

"And. . .you'll remove the bindings?" Percy asked in a moment of bravery.

What exactly did the Baron want?

"I promised and I do plan to be kinder than Miss Rebeccah of Ravenclaw."

Snape coughed and scribbled something out on his paper.

It was rather annoying to have Snape present, even if he couldn't see them.

"Now." The Baron leaned forward, the gnarled bones of his hands intertwined. "I'm sure you're very well aware that to become a ghost, you have to die. And deaths tend to vary."

Percy cleared his throat, glancing briefly at Ron.

Like choking on broccoli. Or helping your best friend kill someone. That method wasn't nearly as funny. Why was the Baron bringing this up?

"Sometimes these deaths are natural, sometimes they are accidental," The Baron continued. His empty eyes gazed into nothing. "But sometimes there are others. . . responsible for some deaths. I've. . . "He sighed deeply. "I've been subject so such a death. Though I suppose you can imagine how difficult that must have been. But seven hundred years. . . seven long centuries. Not that I don't mind my position of power here. Ghosthood is not without its benefits. Such as keeping all these students in line. . .. But I'm not pleased about my mode of death."

It couldn't be much worse than Percy's.

"I don't understand what you need us for," Ron suddenly heard himself say. Oh, no. "If you've been dead that long."

The Baron laughed. It wasn't a pleasant sound. "I want you to avenge my death!"

His voice rang so loud that Ron was surprised Snape didn't hear it.

"Great," Percy muttered.

The Bloody Baron was before him in an instant. "Are you mocking me?"

"No, sir." Somehow he managed to keep cool. "I just. . . I just think it would be beneficial if we knew how you died."

The Baron drifted back, floating rags still waving at Percy. "That's no concern of yours. I'm only asking you to avenge it."

"But. . ."

"Do you not want the deal?"

It was impossible. Of all the bloody luck, fate had to strap them with something so impossible. Ron felt his temper rising. No, he couldn't blow it now. But it was so unfair! Before he knew it, he was driving his fist through Snape's table.

He had forgot he couldn't break anything.

"That's not fair!" he shouted as if the Bloody Baron was no more than Moaning Myrtle in a good mood. Another moment of idiocy. "That's not fair at all!"

The Baron turned his empty gaze. "What?"

He couldn't think to shut up. "How can we investigate your death if we don't even know how you died?"

"I hear the Mudbloods discussing methods all the time." He was laughing at them. "Would you rather have that or the Grey Lady downright lying to you?"

Why did he have to make a point?

Still, there had to be more he could get out of this.

"Can you give us a hint?" Percy, unbelievably.

"My death is my own tragedy." The Baron floated toward the back wall behind Snape's desk. Ron felt an undeniable chill as the ghost passed. "I prefer to dwell on it alone. Though if you happen to find out during this vengeance, I trust you to be silent on the matter." He disappeared into the stone.

"It's so cold in here," Snape muttered.

"It's not fair!" Ron stormed through the wall of the Gryffindor tower, barely noticing that he had also passed through a bulletin board. "Why do we always get the stupidest assignments?"

"Bad karma," Percy muttered in agreement. "Incredibly bad karma. Did we really do anything this bad in our lives?"

Did he really expect an answer? Ron supposed he could come up with several.

"Don't even answer that." Percy sighed. "Why are we in the boys' dormitories?"

Dormitories? Darkened beds hugged the walls, vibrating with various sounds of a one A.M. dorm room. Random blasting could make for some interesting localities. "I have no idea. Maybe the Bloody Baron wants us to figure that out as well."

"I wish I didn't have to follow you." He sighed again and went to the window. "Well, at least he gave us something to do, Ron. If we did manage to somehow pull this off. . ."

"That's assuming we can pull this off. I mean, the bloke won't even tell us how he died."

"And it's been seven hundred years. How are we supposed to avenge a death that old?"

One would think someone would have taken care of it by now. Ron gave a short laugh. "Whoever was responsible is probably dead by now as well. Why don't we just hunt him down in the spirit world or wherever and see if he'll duke it out with the Baron?"

"You know, that might actually be interesting to see." Percy dreamily shoved a hand through the glass window. "Except I don't know what they'd do to each other."

"You me and got in a fight."

"And did no damage and wound up like this." He pulled his hand back out again, displaying the rope.

"Good point."

Percy left the window and wandered among the beds. He seemed quite restless. Though with this latest demand from a house ghost, Ron couldn't blame him. "Maybe we don't have to find the man responsible. Maybe the Baron would prefer us to kill of a descendant."

That was true. Some descendant might be alive. All they had to do was find this person and bring them to the Baron or lead them off a cliff. . . . something inside of Ron brightened. "Yeah! That would be so much easier."

"Except we still have no idea who we are looking for."

The room further darkened.

"This is so hopeless." Ron flung himself into a bed.

Oops. He jerked away immediately. It was nighttime. People were sleeping. Except this bed didn't have the curtains drawn. It was empty.

Odd.

Then recognition set in. It was his bed.

He swore under his breath. Of all the places to accidentally barge into, it had to be his old dorm. And the bed of a dead kid.

It was strange to look at. His years at Hogwarts had never been exactly devoted to making his bed. He usually left it until a house-elf couldn't put up with it anymore, and apparently one of the pesky servants had been here. The covers were neatly folded under the pillow, the top blanket glassy smooth, and everything around the bed boring. He had forgotten they had moved his stuff. Probably at home now. . . He stared at the bed, thinking how wonderful it would be to just mess something up. His room at home had been like that.

If this was his dorm. . . He suddenly felt ill. The time in the past month he had actually spent at Hogwarts... he hadn't exactly watched his classmates sleep. Aside from the Malfoy incident, of course. But this. . . this wasn't right. How empty the dorm seemed, with only Neville and Dean and Seamus and Harry. Four people slept there, yet there were still five beds. Somehow it was too weird to leave an extra bed that no one was using. He had almost forgotten where Harry's bed was. But of course it was just over there.

Percy was standing next to it. Whispering something. It took Ron a moment to realize what.

"Don't date Ginny Weasley," Percy was murmering. He was bent over the bed, not far from Harry's head. "You will not date Ginny Weasley. You can't stand her. In fact, you don't even want to go near—"

It was almost funny. What a git.

"What are you doing?" Ron hissed, speeding over. His voice was almost drowned out by a snore from Neville, so he repeated the accusation louder.

Percy stared at him, looking just like a deer caught in the headlights of a Muggle vehicle. It was an expression his dad had liked. "I was just. . ."

"Percy, are you visible? Can he hear you?"

The stare just continued.

Percy trying to keep Harry away from Ginny. Not that Ron didn't have issues with it anyway. But then again a few years before he had. . . but that didn't count. Just because Harry was his best friend didn't mean he should date Ginny. But then again who else could date her? Ron shook his head, somewhat distilling the flying thoughts. Bloody hell, he didn't even know how he felt about it. But Percy had no right to intervene. That was the girls' job. "What if they catch you?"

A sudden rush of fear washed over Percy's face. "They wouldn't come up to the boys' dorms."

"That's how they caused the date with that Slytherin girl."

"But they wouldn't do that again. That really shouldn't be allowed."

The prefect had returned. "But why were you whispering that."

Percy glanced back at Harry's bed. "Isn't it obvious? You know how I feel about Potter."

Ron had barely calmed down from the Bloody Baron and now this. Every time Harry was even mentioned. . . "What do you have against him, anyway? I'm sure you are aware of all the lies they made about him."

"I'll give you one thing: you certainly are loyal." He managed a wane smile. "I think I've already said it."

"Said what?" All the remarks Percy had made about Harry. "He's a murderer? You can't be bringing this up again."

Percy's eyes flashed under his glasses. "Why can't I? It's true. And I don't want our baby sister with anyone like that!"

Baby sister? "Since when do you refer to her as that? And Harry is not a murderer."

"Figure it out Ron, because he is." He floated away from the bed curtain, face eerily calm. "You do realize that I was there that night?"

Someone, probably Seamus, murmured something in their sleep. Surprisingly too loud in the room. "What are you talking about?"

"You and Harry. In the graveyard."

That horrible flash of green light, so much more dramatic in memory. Ron fought a scream welling in his throat.

Percy sniffed, glancing back at the bed. "I wanted to watch. Every ghost around was talking about it. In fact, everyone was. The wonderful Harry Potter had found a spell to defeat Voldemort. Perfect, perfect. And he was going out to meet him. You had to admit it would be interesting to watch, assuming you're already dead. And then you, Ron, like an idiot had to go follow him."

Yes, it had been idiotic. Not that Percy had to rub it in. But he found he couldn't say anything, only watch Percy in amazement.

"You asked me how I knew you were dead. I wasn't about to let you see me, of course," he continued. "I'm not that crazy. But when someone is doing something so incredibly moronic, you have to come. Call it morbid fascination. Yet I didn't expect anything bad to happen. After all, you were following Harry Potter. The great hero who managed to defeat the Dark Lord and couldn't even protect his best friend."

But it had been an accident. A complete accident. And if it couldn't be blamed as such, then it had been all the way Ron's own fault. The same things he had been thinking for days. He shouldn't have even followed Harry. He should have left when Harry told him to. He should have picked a safer spot to throw the Crucio curse from. He should have picked a better spell.

Then Harry might not have managed to kill Voldemort.

Ron had to say something.

"What are you two doing in here?" A silvery figure in a too-large robe appeared through the wall. "Ditching me at your brothers' shop was so not funny. I've already berated Cornelia about it. . . ."

And Percy had dared to think they would for once obey manners. The apprehension in the room was smashed.

"I said I was sorry," Cornelia said softly, appearing behind Jillie. She looked almost furious. Though of course Jillie could do that to people. "All you were doing was complaining about our game that they don't even want to play-"

"The Cupid Game!" Jillie squealed, halting just in front of Dean's soccer poster. "Is that what you two are in here about? You're actually participating without our threats?" She laughed and did a backflip. "This is wonderful."

"Perhaps I should reward you." A third figure appeared, all silver hair and a nasty glare.

Ron gulped. Not Dream again. If she came near him one more time."

Percy glanced bewildered at Ron, then at the girls. "We're not. . ." Apparently he couldn't think of anything to say.

"I don't care what you're not doing," Dream snapped. "Ron. . . ."

Ron pressed back into the wall.

But she wasn't coming near him. There was still this horrible glint in her eyes, but she wasn't coming near him. The rest of her face. . . she looked almost embarrassed. "Ron, I came to apologize about earlier. I shouldn't have tried to kiss you."

Jillie giggled and even Cornelia smiled.

"But I still think you should know that I really like you." She actually winked.

"Is this all you came to tell us?" Percy asked.

Cornelia rolled her eyes and waved an ashy hand back at Dream. "She followed us."

"Cornelia, honey, you know perfectly well that all the Ravenclaw ghosts are allowed to come to your deathday party."

The deathday party. Of course. "But we were already invited."

"We just came to remind you of that invitation." The way Jillie spoke, it was not an invitation."

"I still don't think we should invite Percy," Dream said. "But since he apparently has to come wherever Ron comes. . . I'll just try not to kill him. Again. And now. . ." She glanced at Harry's bed. "Cornelia, should I?"

Cornelia had always been the one less adamant about the situation. But this time she only laughed and nodded.

"Traitor," Percy muttered.

"I'm going visible." Dream slipped closer to the bed, humming. "Now what's your sister's name again? Oh, yes. Pansy Parkinson."

"Don't you dare!" Ron screamed.

Dream laughed and rolled her eyes. "I'm only kidding. Ginny. Ginny Weasley. Okay, Harry. I want you to ask Ginny Weasley out on a date. Could you do that for me?"

Harry coughed and turned over in his bed. He probably didn't like the conflicting instructions.

"You know you want to take her out. In fact, you want to have a snogging session in the middle of the Quidditch field."

Ron cringed. Too visual, too visual. Dream was good at what she did. Jillie and Cornelia were in hysterics.

"There," Dream sang happily, spinning away from the bed. "A few more nights of that, and he'll be ready to go."

Unless Percy snuck back in.

"Well, we're going to go play out in the leaves," Cornelia said. "I mean, not really play. But it's rather nice when the falling ones come right through you."

Was she asking them to join us? Ron let Percy handle it.

"Have fun," was his timid reply.

Cornelia looked almost mad.

But somehow he was grateful to them. Grateful they had interrupted whatever they had interrupted. Too much thought. Too much. He even waved as Dream Vaporated.

Percy sighed. "They are so annoying." His voice ended in silence.

Ron had to say something. "So. . . what were we talking about?"

Percy shrugged. "Does it really matter? Do you want to go bug the thestrals again?"

* * *

* * *

**Shout Outs!**

**_ArcherofDarkness: _**Do you want to start a piggy club with me?

**_CharliesMommy:_** Well, the last time Ron went visible, Hermione thought she was crazy. )

**_Crystal Lighting:_** Thanks! The thing between Percy and Cornelia is mostly to bug Lady Kazaana, but it is cute.

**_db:_** The family angst will actually appear... next chapter, if I schedule it correctly. Some will, anyway.

**_Dr. Huff-Puff:_** As you requested, Snape has appeared in this chapter.

**_duj:_** Does someone have a crush on Percy? . . . yeah. Basically to irritate Lady Kazaana, who designed Cornelia's character.

**_EternallyLost:_** Ron will get around to it. After all, he's already appeared to Hermione. She thinks she is crazy, but hey!

**_Hydrangea777:_** It is kind of hard to do Ron/Hermione when one of them is sort of...dead, isn't it? Still, Ron is in love with her. But as for Percy/Cornelia... Oh, the throwing things thing: Percy and Ron and the girls weren't throwing anything; the twins were. Maybe I should make that clearer.

**_hydraspit:_** Yeah, it really does need to get going somewhere. I'm slowly working on it. I realized that about five chapters ago... and I'm pushing it! I mean, I really know how this is all going to go! It just won't... go!

**_Kreyna alenak_**: What do you think we could miss? Yes, reverse psychometry... gotta problem with it? Ron's a wizard; he doesn't know the difference between that and reverse psychology.

**_Lady Kazaana:_** Why poor Fred and George? They were having fun.

**_Lady Meriadoc:_** Homecoming! Wow! I hope you had fun!

**_Lahar:_** Wow, I'm impressed you remembered that Penelope actually saw Percy. Yes, that's one of the issues Percy has with going visible. It wasn't a good experience. More on it later.

**_meenyrocks:_** I couldn't kill you. ) Though if you want to date Ron, I guess I could make an exception.

**_Pline:_** Hermione/Ron is my favorite, too, but it's kind of hard for them at the moment.. so I must have Ginny/Harry!

**_rosepetal13:_** A plot bunny, eh? Care to make that into a story? Well, Percy has several reasons for not wanting anyone to see him. A couple of bad experiences. Plus, he was on such bad terms with his family... can you at all pity him?

**_severus's bane:_** I think it's more of Ron corrupting Percy.

**_Tabitha78:_** I'm sure you'll love the Baron's death.

**_Tru Lys:_** Cornelia didn't ask Percy on a date, persay. It's more of a. . . um. .. er, a social excursion. Yes, I'm in denial.

**_UnicornVampire3z:_** Doesn't Ginny so much rock? She's fun to right since she actually developed as a character in book 5. Yay Ginny! As for Fred and George...we need them!

**_xXNaziHaolXx:_** Get the Bloody Baron all hookered up? That would be an evil task indeed! Thanks so much for your comments; you have no idea how much you improve my days.


	23. Binnichan Proves Useful

_This chapter is dedicated to rosepetal13. Because she said so. And she makes good cookies._

_Oh, warning so you won't be confused: I'm going to add a new perspective in this chapter. It will be separated, of course, but it's a new one._

_Also, I just got my wisdom teeth pulled today! So hopefully I wasn't too terribly drugged when writing this._

* * *

The week sped by, much to Ron's utter confusion. Time usually didn't work that way, not with something like avenging the Bloody Baron with no evidence whatsoever on his mind. With that, the days should have dragged by as he waited for Percy to come up with some idea of what to do. Percy had always been the good student; if anyone would know where to look, it would be him. Perhaps it was that panic inherent in the mission. Perhaps it was the fact that they had been invited to Cornelia's death day party. And they were expected to go to Ginny. Every time something bad was coming up, it came quickly.

Whatever Percy had been in the middle of saying that night, he never continued it. Ron considered asking about it once or twice, but an appropriate opportunity never arose. Though, once he thought about it, when did he ever need an appropriate opportunity to do anything? But it wasn't as if either of them had to bring it up. So Percy had watched him die. So what? Maybe that Jamie McFly girl had, as well.

Harry, fortunately, had no visible issues from having everyone in his bedroom. He went through school, talking to Hermione or Neville or Dean or whomever, homework, and Quidditch. Percy never wanted to watch the practices, especially with the current state of the team. No one seemed to have much spirit left when it came to playing, so the one section of Harry's schedule that could have been remotely interesting was also ruined. Ron had never realized how boring life had been.

Harry didn't go on any dates that week, though he and Charity did have an awkward apology in the halls that was interrupted by Peeves dropping water balloons. Thank goodness it wasn't bugs.

"It would be scary," Percy had said then, "If Ginny and Peeves ever joined forces."

Ron had to agree. If Ginny ever had to sabotage another date.

If she would ever at least glance at Harry.

Ron was still very confused about the whole thing. It just might be easier to avenge a 700-year old death than work with a stubborn Ginny Weasley.

Then it was there, a windy Friday night and a thrown-together Deathday Party in one of the dungeons. Ron couldn't help but be grateful that Cornelia hadn't gone to the extravagance of Nearly-Headless Nick. There was only about a dozen guests, counting the girls, and some rusty chains strung over the ceiling like streamers. And, to Ron's impression, skull-shaped balloons. A radio had been tuned to old 40's songs, and Percy and Ron were sadly cornered in front of it.

"We didn't bother to bake a cake," Jillie said. "Or make the house-elves put one together for us. We can't exactly eat it, anyway."

"I hope you don't mind," Cornelia said. She looked exceptionally ashy that night. Ron almost felt inspired to give her a compliment.

Percy stared around the room, clearly not wanting to be there and somehow managing to speak without actually looking at Cornelia.

"Did you bring her a present?" Jillie giggled. She swooped behind Percy, poking at his robes.

He jerked away. "Quit it."

"Ah, Cornelia, I think he wants to give you a gift in secret. Isn't that what you want?"

Cornelia blushed and smacked at Jillie with her bag.

A deathday gift? Ron rolled his eyes. The sad thing was that Percy indeed had managed to bring her a gift. One that Ron himself had suggested.

Percy cleared his throat and threw a glance at Ron. Begging. Good. Ron smiled. All Percy had to do was keep a straight face and not back out of this. After all, he had been laughing just as much at the idea.

"I can do it here," he said, reaching into his pocket with his sleeve wrapped around his hand. "It's nothing much, but I thought it was kind of interesting. . ."

The phantom version of a Snitch jilted into the air.

It had not survived being swallowed by a thestral. But Cornelia or anyone didn't need to know that.

"A Snitch?" Cornelia's puzzlement was mixed with some delight. "These things take a while to get pounded into nothing!"

"You should have seen the real Snidgets," Jillie said. "Now those were fun to see die."

"You are so morbid." She jumped at the snitch just as her arm erupted into flame.

Percy coughed, an obvious disguise for a laugh. "Glad you like it!"

"I love it!" She threw her arms around Percy. Unfortunately, she was still on fire.

"Oh?" came a familiar voice. "So she gets a gift? No one ever celebrates my deathday. They try to make it all right by inviting me. But that's because they all feel sorry for me."

A chubby girl descended through the ceiling, glasses askew and tear-stained.

Ron groaned. Moaning Myrtle.

Jillie shrugged apologetically. "It was Dream's idea," she mouthed.

Dream had been at the other side of the room, socializing with a Hufflepuff phantom with a quill stuck in her eye, but jumped over immediately.

Ron blinked. Girls could hear everything.

Moaning Myrtle sniffed and saved morosely at Dream. "She's nice. She bothered to invite me. Something the deathday girl wouldn't even do!"

It was Dream's turn to shrug apologetically.

"Myrtle, you're always invited, you know that," Cornelia said softly, turning away from an ash-covered and panicked Percy. "We even have boys this time?"

"Boys?" Some of the depression faded from Myrtle's voice. Her eyes skipped over the room.

Ron tried to shrink away. Myrtle had always ignored him somewhat in the face of Harry. . .

"Percy," she spat. "He doesn't count as a boy."

"Now that's why I invited her!" Dream exclaimed, high-fiving a rather surprise Myrtle.

"But Ron." Myrtle frowned. "Ronald Weasley. The mean one! You and that Hermione girl! Wow. I didn't even realize you were dead. But I'm sure you now know how it all feels!"

"I'm actually thinking of stealing your stall," he replied. Maybe that would make her go away. Or provoke her.

To his horror, she smiled. "Oh? You want my stall? You don't have to steal it. Not when we can share it."

Percy gave another coughing laugh. "Myrtle, that would be hardly appropriate."

Myrtle glared at him. "Oh? Prefects ruin everything."

"You do realize that Percy would have to join us?" Ron said.

Jillie doubled over with laughter.

Ron recognized this. He had just accidently thrown himself into friendly female banter. They were joking around him. Or something. Maybe they'd start fighting. It was so hard to tell.

"The problem, Myrtle," Dream said. "Is that Ron is to be coming with me. And I can put up with the Percy problem. Unless you'd like him."

The Snitch should have gone to Dream.

"You want Ron?" The morose depression returned. "How come you get everything? First off, the one that I like fails to die, and now when his best friend is available. . . "

"I'm sorry to say that I had first dibs on him." Dream's eyes were narrow slits.

"Oh, no," Percy muttered.

Ron slugged him. "You were the prefect and headboy. Do something!"

"You were also prefect!"

But it had always been the girl prefects who had stopped such fights.

"There are so few dead teenage boys at the school," Dream continued. "That I think I should have a fair pick."

Cornelia and Jillie picked chains to hover over, chair style. They were ready to view a fight.

Myrtle's lip quivered, and she carefully took off her glasses, folded them, and put them away.

"Afraid I'll break them?" Dream taunted. "I did not invite you to this party because I wanted you to steal the boy I love!"

"But I love him!"

Love? Love was too strong a word. And Dream and Myrtle were obviously nutters.

"Wow, Ron," Percy said, joining Cornelia and Jillie at the chains. "You're being fought over."

Immediately Ron's mood improved. Girls never had exactly chased after him. Who cared if this selection was less than desirous?

It was just best to stay at a safe distance from the fight, which soon had the attention of everyone in the room.

As it turned out, Myrtle was surprisingly better at fighting than Dream. It had to be the years of torture and taunting. It wasn't long before she had her hands knotting Dream's long hair and shoving her in and out of the stone wall while everyone cheered and booed around them.

"Stop, stop," Jillie finally said, throwing herself between the girls. "I think that's enough."

"It's not it would kill them," someone commented as Dream dizzily pulled herself out of the wall.

Jillie grabbed Myrtle's hand and held it up in a victorious pose. "Our winner is Myrtle! Congratulations, you have won Ronald Weasel."

Please don't hug me, Ron suddenly thought.

She was coming toward him, smiling broadly and too flirtatiously. Dang, but she wasn't all that cute. Not at all. "This is so exciting! I've never won anything before! Usually because people cheat. . ."

"Do something," Ron muttered.

"Congratulations on winning," Percy said. "And as bonus you've also won me. Mostly because two ghosts of opposite genders can not stay in a bathroom together."

Myrtle rolled her eyes. "You're not coming."

"Actually. . . you can't stop me."

Ron laughed. Myrtle didn't know of the binding. He held up his wrist, displaying the rope. "Percy goes wherever I go."

Myrtle did not return the laugh. "That's not funny! That's just sick! So take those off!"

"It's not a trick," Cornelia said. "They're telling the truth."

It was Dream who told the story, at least as much as she had heard of it. She turned out to be the best one for the task, though the flattery on Ron's part became uncomfortably flowery after a time. Though it was nice to hear all blame go to Percy.

Amazing how he just took that kind of thing, Ron thought, glancing at his brother.

"Wow," said an older ghost Ron had never met before. "That's terrible."

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard!" Myrtle cried once the story was over. Her eyes began to feel up with teas. "It's so unfair! That stupid Bloody Baron! He's so mean to me. He did this to me!" She gave a terrible wail and flung herself towards the floor.

Everyone stared.

"There has to be some way of finding out how the Baron died," Cornelia mused. "Especially if it was interesting and he was someone important at this school."

"Whoever cared died seven centuries ago," Percy said.

The excitement of the fight couldn't last long with this being brought up again.

"Seven centuries ago? Now that was a fun time!" A figure burst into the room. Professor Binns.

"Binnichan!" Jillie shrieked.

"Of course it's me!" Binnichan stuck a hand through one of the skeleton balloons and used his fingers to mimic a talking mouth. "I'm so sorry I'm late but it has been a crazy day. I found a new way to bore my living students."

"You missed a good fight," Dream said. "I lost, but. . ."

Another sob rose from the floor.

"A cat fight, eh?" Binnichan looked thoughtful. "You didn't try and get a whole series going? We could have had elimination matches."

"Binnichan," Percy suddenly whispered. Almost excited.

But Percy couldn't stand the teacher. Ron frowned. "Percy?"

Percy just shook his head and pushed Ron to the side. "Binnichan! Professor Binns is teaches History of Magic."

"Yes, Percy, I've slept through his classes regularly."

"No, I mean yes!" It wasn't natural. Percy was absolutely thrilled over something. "History! He knows the history of just about everything."

A flicker of understanding bit at Ron's brain. "He might know. . ." Of course! Ron shot past his brother and into the Hufflepuff quill girl. "Binnichan!"

"Ron!" Binnichan smiled and held out a hand. "So you were the subject of the fights and making poor Myrtle miserable, weren't you?"

"Miserable Myrtle!" Peeves appeared in the center of the room, arms full of cupcakes. "Moaning Myrtle had to actually be invited to this party, while I can just show up. Happy Birthday, Miss Cornelia. Peevsies has brought you cake!"

Cornelia screamed as Peeves tossed one of the cupcakes through her arm.

"Now that is a proper birthday scream," Peeves said. "Do it again. No, do it while I throw these at Myrtle. Though the cake can't be good for her pimples."

"Peeves!" Myrtle wailed. "I hate this party, and I hate you, Cornelia!" She dashed through the wall, Peeves right behind her.

For a moment the room was silent.

"That was random," Ron said.

"I actually told him to do that," Binnichan said. "Hope you don't mind, Cornelia."

She glanced at the smashed cupcake on the floor. "I really didn't want Myrtle to come. Was it mean of me?"

Not at all, Ron thought. But it wasn't the time for this.

Percy beat him to the point. "Professor Binns–"

The ghost teacher laughed. "No, Binnichan. Get it right. It's expressive of my fondness for the Japanese culture."

Percy made a face. "Binnichan, then. Would you happen to know how the Bloody Baron died?"

The room went silent again. One of the chains even snapped from the wall.

Binnichan no longer looked so happy. Or so it seemed. Somewhere beneath his wrinkled face of horror was a tiny smile. "The Baron of Slytherin? You wish to know how he died?"

"Story time," someone muttered.

"We've become very interested in people's deaths," Ron explained.

Binnichan gave a dry laugh and leaned back toward the wall. "The Bloody Baron is hardly a popular ghost here. And he has such an image problem, you might see. Ever since he began haunting it. Which was long before my time, I might add. Oh, goodness, maybe I shouldn't be telling you this." Another laugh.

This wasn't the reaction expected.

"I want you to imagine Hogwarts seven hundred years ago," he continued. "A very different place than now. These dungeons were actually put to use. It was also a time of great fun, both in the Muggle and wizarding worlds. Some of the Hogwarts alumni even copied the bards and acting troupes the Muggles were so found of. Unfortunately, the make-up director for this particular acting troupe was also in his first year of teaching potions. Well. . ." Binnichan couldn't even pretend his laugh was nothing that time. "A batch of snidget feed was accidently mixed into a case of stage blood. Hadeus McFly, I believe, was the moron's name. Anyway, when the stage blood was dumped over the body of the actor playing the part of an imprisoned nobleman and that night's play. . . So unfortunate a Quidditch game was going on at the time."

Cornelia gasped. "He was. . pecked to death?"

Someone screamed.

Binnichan shook his head, chuckling. "Oh, no. The sight of the Snidget zooming at him startled the poor actor so much that he tripped off the stage. Nasty fall. Sadly fatal. It looked worse than it was because of all the stage blood."

Percy cleared his throat. "Erm... are you telling us that the Bloody Baron is covered in _stage blood?_"

"The truth is so much less dramatic, isn't it? Mind you, this has only been mentioned in a single textbook. Most people that try to write this down are driven to insanity by hauntings."

"And so for years the Bloody Baron has been pretending he's had a much more tragic and mysterious death," Ron said. "Percy, this is even better than your death."

There was a small smile as Percy nodded. "I'm actually disappointed. So the man's name was McFly that messed this up?"

Ron's heart sank. The man still had to be dead already. But that name McFly. . .

Dream suddenly screamed. "The time!"

"My party isn't over yet," Cornelia said.

"No, the time!" Dream pointed at the grated window. Sunset was long past. "Ginny Weasley said she was going home this weekend!"

"That's right!" Jillie squealed, smiling at Percy and Ron. "You have work to do."

"But we can't leave Cornelia's party," Percy protested.

"Is there plotting go on without me?" Binnichan asked.

"They're helping us with something," Dream said. "It's necessary that Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley be set up."

"Aw, that's so sweet!" Binnichan grinned at Ron. "So you told these girls you would to this for them? How kind of you to help in their matchmaking. Especially that it's involving your sister."

Ron shuddered. They had promised, hadn't they? They had been foolish enough to promise.

Jillie pulled him aside. "You have to go. I know about Cornelia's Snitch. And I can get one a lot worse for you."

* * *

The Burrow had always been strange in the dark, the subject of a hundred ghost stories in the Muggle village. It had been worse in the rain that horrible night. And that had been the last time Ron had gone back.

Percy, for some reason, had insisted they arrive in the yard, where the old trees brushed each other in the wind and a few lawn gnomes scurried across the grass, one with a chicken after him. The windows revealed a few lights of people still up.

"I think Charlie's visiting, too," Percy said, pointing at a window. "You can hear him."

Silence. The excitement of the party, of finding out how the Baron had died, was gone. Why did it have to be back at the house? Why couldn't the girls work on Ginny if they cared so much about all of this? The past few weeks at the school had almost convinced Ron that this place didn't exist. But this house held even more memories than Hogwarts. "Why didn't we just go to Ginny's room? She might be asleep."

Percy shrugged. "I just wanted to see the whole thing, that's all." He drifted to the door, not even lifting his hand in some pretense of opening the handle.

Ron followed. The kitchen, clean and tidy with the last of the dinner dishes setting themselves away. Odd. They had rarely come to home to visit when there wasn't a holiday. But here it was, his mum and dad and the twins and Ginny and maybe even Charlie. Ron glanced at the clock, his mum's special one.

Mortal Danger, he thought. That's where his hand should have been pointing. Maybe it had been there for a second, that split second when Voldemort's spell had struck him.

But he didn't even have a hand there.

"Mum must have taken it down," Percy said. "The clock doesn't work when you're. . . dead. The Mortal Danger is the worse it will give."

Dad's had been there when he had been attacked by the snake.

"What about you?" Ron asked. "You don't have a hand up there, either. Mum and Dad. . . it must have taken awhile for you to choke to death. Wouldn't they have seen it here? And then what happens?"

Percy sniffed. "I don't know what it showed. Do you know what happened?"

To his surprise Ron didn't know. Percy's hand must have been taken off. But when? Maybe when he wasn't around. He could imagine it, though. His parents in a fight. His dad had always been so mad about Percy. Maybe he had taken it down.

He forced a laugh. "Don't think it would have helped much, anyway."

"I think you're right." He headed toward the stairs.

"Percy, you do remember that we can go through walls and ceilings." This whole situation could go so much faster. Talk to Ginny for a few minutes, than leave. They didn't need to be here.

Percy didn't reply, but floated up the stairs as if he were merely walking.

Ron sighed and followed him. Though it would be so much easier to go to Ginny on his own. Except for the stupid bindings. So he followed Percy up the staircase. It was so strange. How many times had everyone ran up and down those stairs until the whole house rang with footsteps?

Ginny's bedroom door was open. She wasn't in it.

She was on the next flight of stairs, hand on the rail and foot frozen above one step. She was already for bed. Maybe she had even been sleeping. "Mum?" she called. "Mum?" She listened for a moment and, receiving no reply, continued up the stairs. "Mum?"

She reached the floor where Ron's room was. That door was open, light flooding the dark hallway.

Ron felt himself go cold.

Ginny froze at the doorway. She couldn't go in. "Mum? What are you doing here?"

Their mother was in there, sitting on Ron's neatly made bed. A sweater was in her hands, an ugly maroon thing from a few Christmases before. She was crying.

Ron noticed that Percy looked away.

"Ginny." The sweater was quickly folded. "I thought you were in bed, dear."

Ginny shrugged. "I didn't hear you go to bed. I heard Dad go, and you in the kitchen, but you didn't go to you room."

Molly forced a tearful smile. "Amazing what you can hear in this house."

Ginny sat down on the bed next to her. "This is so weird. Ron never made his bed."

"I know. He'd hate this."

"I don't think he would. I don't think he minds."

Well, Ron had to admit the bed did look nicer with smooth covers.

Ginny looked at the family portrait on the dresser, then pressed her face into her mother's shoulder.

Ron wanted to leave. Ginny crying, his mum crying. . .

Molly pulled her daughter into a hug, trying herself not to cry any more. "Maybe you should be in bed. So should I. I know I should do something with all of things, get them organized, but I can't even open his school trunk."

Ginny sniffed and pulled away, her eyes red. "The worst part is that Percy doesn't even know. Of if he does, he hasn't contacted us. I was thinking about that today. He had to know. All the newspapers talked about it, so he had to know. So how could he not even care?"

That touched something on her mother, whose hands were suddenly over her mouth. "Ginny, you can't think that way. You can't assume that."

She wiped her eyes on her sleeve. "I'm sorry."

"I'm leaving," Percy whispered. It wasn't long before the fifty feet had been taken up. Ron didn't hear anymore.

"I think they're asleep now," Ron said an hour later. Percy had returned to the kitchen and had refused to move. Had refused to even talk, despite Ron's attempts that he eventually let slide away. Ron had spent the time wandering where he could, wishing so much he didn't have to be in that house. If he had to be, why couldn't his mum at least be happy over something? Not crying over some stupid sweater.

Then Ginny had to accuse Percy of not caring. Of being alive.

He glanced back at Percy, who was hovering in a corner, staring at the wall. He had been like that the entire time. "Percy, let's just get this done," he pleaded. "Just so we can leave."

Nothing.

"We can just say we talked to Ginny. They'll believe us. Let's just leave."

Again nothing.

Ron almost panicked. Percy could always be provoked to talking.

"Well, I'm leaving, then."

"Upstairs first."

"So you can speak."

"Ron. . ."

He froze, waiting for Percy to say more.

He didn't, just headed back up the stairs.

Ginny's door was closed this time. So she had gone to sleep. Ron pressed through the door. Even in the darkness he could still see several themes of pink. He rarely went into Ginny's room–none of them good, not without her screaming about some delusional rights to privacy. Should he be in here now? At least she wasn't protecting the place with a force field.

Pig's cage was at her bedside. It was empty and the window was slightly open. The little pest was out hunting. Hopefully another toad wouldn't attack him.

And there she was. Ginny, wrapped up under a number of blankets, breathing gently as she slept.

The only sister in the family. And now the subject of some obnoxious plot. Well, he had better get it over with.

Go visible, he commanded himself. Whatever he had done with Hermione. . . he felt pretty sure he could do it again.

"Just tell yourself to do it," Percy whispered. "Ginny. . ."

Ginny shifted slightly on her pillow.

"Ginny," Ron echoed. "I hate to do this to you, but you remember that crush you had on Harry? Well, some people think you still have it."

"When you shouldn't," Percy put in.

Ron elbowed him. "Ginny, you need to talk to Harry. Get him to ask you out. You want to. He wants to ask you out." Not necessarily, but there would be people working on that. "You used to be friends with him. Be friends again."

He suddenly heard himself. How pathetically stupid was this?

"Steal Harry's Quidditch things," he continued. "Then he'll have to notice you."

And then her eyes flickered open.

Ron swore. Just like Hermione.

She blinked slowly. "Quidditch?" Her unfocused eyes seemed to fix on. . . him.

"Ginny," he heard himself repeat.

She shook her head sleepily. "Ron? Why are you in my room?" Her head dropped back to her pillow. "Get out before I tell Mum." The last part was barey audible.

She thought she was dreaming. "Not until you talk to Harry."

"Okay,"she murmured again, reopening her eyes. "Why do you have that stupid rope on your wrist?"

If only she knew. So she could see him. Like Hermione could. She could see him and hear him. He could talk to her.

"Ginny, how are you doing?" he asked.

She was fast asleep again.

He watched her for a few more moments. She had seen him. Even if she thought she was dreaming.

"Percy," he whispered. "She saw me. Percy?"

He looked around the room. Percy was gone.

* * *

His parents' room wasn't so far from Ginny's. Just through the ceiling and a little bit over. And he had seen Ginny, he had done his part. Ron could finish up there. He had always been closer to Ginny, anyway. Not that they all hadn't just loved her. The wonderful role of being a big brother.

But there were other people Percy had to see.

No, hadn't wasn't the right word. He shouldn't even be there. He didn't deserve to be there. And yet in the year since he had died he had come, watching so much more than Ron could have guessed. They were still mad at him. Percy was aware of that. Sometimes he would come and find himself the topic of some nasty conversation. Not pleasant. But he deserved it. He more than deserved it and now he was paying the price.

Sometimes they wanted him to come back. But that's just what they said.

It was better this way. He had decided that long ago. He didn't doubt that they loved him; he had heard that and actually believed it. So that's why it was better. They could think that he was still alive and maybe one day would just waltz through the door and upset everything all over again. So it was better that they thought he was alive. Ron didn't understand that.

He couldn't do what he had done and have everything perfect again.

The stupidest thing he had ever done. . . Sometimes he was the idiot.

Percy stood at the edge of the bed, gazing at his sleeping parents. They were good people, they really were. And they had always been so proud of everything that he had done.

Especially his dad. He had always wanted someone to follow him into the Ministry.

Percy had always wanted to make him proud. To show him just what their family was capable of. How could he have been so dumb?

He still remembered that awful fight on the night he had left. He had never apologized for it. Not out loud, for all the imagined ones.

Ron would come looking for him soon.

His dad gave a snore and rolled over.

Percy loved them so much. Maybe that's why he come back to the house so often. He was visible still, from talking to Ginny. They could hear him. Not that it mattered.

But he heard himself say it anyway. "I'm sorry."

"Percy?"

He gave a small cry and whirled around.

Ron stood a few feet away, ghastly silver in the faint moonlight from the window.

"What?"

"I'm done with Ginny." He shrugged.

Ginny. Of course. Percy nodded. Did Ron want him to say something more?

"So. . . I guess we're done?"

"Yes, we're done. Time to find work on this McFly case. "What other point was there to stay here?

* * *

**SHOUT OUTS!**

_ArcherofDarkness: _Ooh... it would be fun to have Hermione and Harry get in a fight!

_Avalon Estel: _Ron was asking to die. Not really. Actually, Percy was my original ghost, and I picked Ron to die to hang out with him. Then it became a Ron story. Oh well.

_CharliesMommy: _Craziness is good!

_Crystal Lightning:_ Heck, I'm waiting for Rowling to send Harry and Ginny on a date!

_db:_ there was a little angst in this chapter, and I promise to get you more.

_Dr. Huff-Puff: _Welcome. Hey, I finally got around to ordering 10th Kingdom on DVD, but it is so taking its sweet time getting here. Grr.

_duj:_ Nice to see another person who feels somewhat bad for Percy. I mean, could you imagine watching your brother die like that? As for Snape... you shall see. There actually was a reason for the office, as you so wisely guessed.

_EternallyLost: _Yeah, Percy just hangs around being mean while Ron does all the work. Percy had better help on this task.

_HiddenFlame42: _No, Snape didn't see the Baron. The Baron was also invisible. And now I know the 12 reference!

_hydraspit: _Yeah, the girls did interrupt. Percy and Ron may never get a chance to bond. Stupid girls.

_Just Curious:_ I've always liked Percy. I feel he needs to be redeemed. But I also want him to suffer during the process. Because he was naughty. Glad you approve.

_Krenya-Alenak: _Well, this story takes place during the 7th book, and I like to imagine that there would have been enough problems after Book 5 that some people did have to learn the Forbidden Curses. Though Ron apparently couldn't do a good enough job of the Crucio curse. Anywho, that was my logic.

_Lady Kazaana:_ Now that you know how the man died, do you understand why he didn't give more detail?

_Lady Meriadoc: _Glad you like Dream! She's kind of fun to write. She's obnoxious, but she's fun.

_Lahar:_ Yes, poor Percy. I mean, would you want to watch your sibling get killed?

_meenyrocks:_ This is actually the quickest I've given a death explanation.

_PhoenixLupin:_ Lol! The girls were characters my cousins came up with. They're almost an inside joke. But they are terribly obnoxious.

_Pline:_ Dream's annoyingness is exactly why Ron shys away. Wouldn't you? )

_rosepetal13:_ You hate Percy? I've always loved him! No!!! But I completely agree with you. He so went off my favorite character list when I read the 5th book.

Satine-cm: Your review made me so happy. Thanks! Glad you're enjoying this. As for the Grey Lady's trinket, it's important, but more for symbolism than any plot device. I think it's cool, anyway.

_Tabitha78: _Nope, Harry probably would not have succeeded. Ron's death gave him just the motive to put everything he had into defeating Voldy.

_Tru Lys:_ Or I could just reveal the death in this chapter. Neener neener.

_v-babe24:_ Thank-you! Let's do the rod 'n reel!

_x-koko-x: _Wow! Thanks for all the reviews! They were so great to read! And it's great to find someone else who has read _Angels Don't Knock!_

_xXNaziHaloXx:_ Thanks! You always make my day.


	24. Talking

Jillie, Dream, and Cornelia were ecstatic when Percy and Ron returned to the dungeon, still silent from the Burrow experience.

"So you did do it, didn't you?" Jillie demanded, performing several back-flips in the air. "You told your sister that she should date Harry Potter?"

Ron didn't feel like answering. Why did people always accuse him of never thinking, then intruding on his thoughts whenever he bothered to? Yes, he had done as he was supposed to, despite the fact that he was still wasn't sure of how he thought about Ginny and Harry together, as a couple. His best friend and his little sister. Oh, no. For a moment he considered vaporating back there and instructing Ginny to forget the whole thing.

But that was only a minor pest. He could still see Ginny, eyes misty with sleepiness, looking at him. It had been. . . he didn't like to think that way now. Wonderful. Now he wished she had done more. Even a scream would have been nice.

And then there was Percy. Ron glanced at his brother, lazily answering whatever random questions Cornelia was throwing at him in her shy way. Poor guy. Cornelia had it bad. Though at least she wasn't trying to kill anyone over Percy.

Exactly why had Percy been in their parents' room? Ron was still awaiting an explanation.

Jillie's freckled face hardened. "Well? Aren't you going to give us the details?"

Binnichan gave a snorting sort of laugh. "I think he's lying. They didn't do anything useful there. Maybe I should have gone."

Somehow the image of Binnichan roaming the Burrow was not a pleasant one.

"And to think I had to drown in that stupid lake to get a boy to notice me." Dream pushed Jillie out of the way. "That dratted Lucius Malfoy that for some reason I thought cute. You could at least make it easier on your sister. Tell us, Ron."

How he hated them. "She screamed out in her sleep that she hated Harry Potter and would stop at nothing until he was dead or crazy."

Even Binnichan was taken back.

"It's almost morning," Percy announced. His voice was strangely high. "So we should probably go."

No one said anything. Dream burst into tears.

"Happy Birthday, Cornelia. Again."

Cornelia joined Dream. A full-out Ravenclaw disaster.

"I didn't mean to upset her that much," Percy whispered as they left the room, nonchalantly glancing back. "But Jillie and Dream. What exactly did you say to them?"

"The wrong thing. I told them Ginny now hates Harry."

Percy raised an eyebrow, eyes bright beneath the murky glasses. "You told them what?"

It hadn't been all that funny in front of the girls. But, suddenly, it was. Ron laughed so hard it was all he could do to focus on the hall before him. Then he realized that Percy had joined in.

Ron bit his lip, attempting some stop of laughter. Ginny hating Harry would be something Percy might approve of. "You do realize that isn't what happened to Ginny?"

Percy just continued laughing, only giving a nod in reply. It was all the funnier, and all too soon the Gryffindor common room surrounded them.

"What about Cornelia?" Ron asked, throwing himself into the solidness of a couch. "What exactly did you say to her?"

It was a long time before Percy could speak. "I told her the same thing."

* * *

Harry hated History of Magic. He hated it more than he could bear. Perhaps with Voldemort out of the way, he had to vent angry emotion on something. So why not that miserable class with its boring teacher and pointless, droning hours of notes and notes that managed to spread themselves over the common room floor.

The worst part was that he wasn't enrolled.

"I think it'd be a nice thing for you to do," Hermione had said. "Ginny's been stressed. I've been stressed. You don't even want to visit the Weasleys, so why don't you just stay here and attend Ginny's class for her while we go?" Ginny's History of Magic was late on Fridays.

So, like a fool, Harry had agreed to attend it for her. And copy boring note and after boring note while Hermione and Ginny did... whatever at the Burrow.

But Hermione was also right in saying that he didn't want to go there. Too many memories.

Not that History of Magic didn't have its own attached. Harry paused, ink dripping from the quill onto the pile of fix-up notes. That had been the one he and Ron had always slept through. Ron had once joked that Professor Binns had bored himself to death.

Harry missed him so much.

And why was he doing the stupid notes? Ginny still didn't speak to him and probably never would again. Hermione's little surprise plan would have no affect whatsoever. Ginny might not even take the notes. What was he trying to prove by going to class for her? Why was he bothering now, so early in the morning, to make them nice?

Hermione wasn't the only one going crazy.

"Good morning!"

Harry screamed, and the bottle of ink went flying like a black rain storm. All over the floor, all over his clothes. All over the notes.

The little first-year boy giggled. An annoying redhead. "Sorry, Harry. I just don't see people up this early."

Harry forced a smile and tried to wipe some of the ink away. "It's okay, Sterling. I was just finishing homework."

"Homework?" The kid looked sick. "Oh. Homework is boring. Do you wanna go play Quidditch?"

"With two people? This early?"

It was as if an entirely new concept had been opened up. "Oh! I'm going to go get dressed then. Bye, Harry." Sterling wandered back up to the boys' dorms.

"Bye, Sterling." Had he been so obnoxious at age eleven?

Maybe the notes could still be salvaged. If only he hadn't left his wand up in his room. With a heavy sigh he picked up one sheet and scrubbed at the inky mess.

The portrait hole swung open, revealing a head of brown hair. "Harry? You're up this early? And what have you been doing?" Hermione's night bag slammed to the floor.

Harry stared back at Hermione, then the ink mess, and the soaking parchment in his hand. He had unbuttoned his shirt to get a better wiping surface. "Oh. You're back early."

"We have to be for classes." Hermione held the door open, and Ginny appeared. She was still in her pajamas, red hair slung back in a messy ponytail.

Harry's breath caught. Something from the past couple of nights slithered into his head. Something about Ginny.

Ginny froze, her eyes locking with Harry's. She seemed almost. . .nervous. "Hi, Harry."

"Hey, Ginny."

Hermione picked up a sheet of parchment, then turned on Harry. "What did you do to Ginny's notes?"

"Notes?" Ginny echoed.

"Harry, you're impossible." Hermione shoved the parchment into his arms. "How is she supposed to read this mess? Ginny, I made Harry attend your History of Magic class on Friday. So we could leave earlier."

Ginny actually smiled. "You slept through a class for me?"

Some of the writing was still legible, Harry decided. "I actually did take notes. There was just... an accident." Then, to his horror, he found himself actually handing her the mess of parchment and ink.

She accepted it, somewhat gingerly. "Thanks."

It was rather awkward. He quickly buttoned up his pajama shirt. "You're welcome. Sorry if you can't read them. They were going to be nice."

She laughed. A forced laugh. "Well, I sleep through that class anyway. Professor Binns probably bored himself to death. That's what my brother used to say."

"So why bother taking notes?" Hermione sighed and grabbed her bag. "I'm going to take a shower." She marched up the stairs.

Leaving Harry alone with Ginny.

Ginny glanced over the notes, then set them carefully on a chair. "Um, Harry? I think I should apologize for the way I've been acting."

Why did girls always have to apologize? "You haven't been acting anyway."

Her eyes flashed, almost angry. "Oh, I have, too. I've barely spoken to you since everything happened and I should have."

"Ginny, it's been a month."

"I think a month is quite a long time not to speak to someone."

She was going to hurt him. Ginny could be quite scary when she wanted to be. Had that been why he had never tried to talk to her? Great, now he had to apologize. "I'm sorry that I didn't talk to you, either."

She couldn't seem to find a reply for that. Score one. Finally, she just smiled. "Hermione thinks she's going crazy again."

"Why are you changing the subject?" he asked.

"Because we've both apologized. And I think you need to hear this. Hermione basically slept the whole weekend. I think she does too much homework. So she just crashed on the den downstairs."

"I don't understand how that makes her crazy."

Ginny smiled again. She always had looked cute when she smiled. "Saturday morning, she said she had heard voices. They had woken her up. And she said of them were coming from my room."

Harry laughed. "So you're talking in your sleep? I think that makes you the crazy one." This wasn't so hard, talking to Ginny.

Her laugh was more real this time. "Okay, maybe so. Well, it's just that I had a really weird dream that night. With... I don't know. Harry, I had this weird dream with Ron in it, and he was talking to me. I've had dreams about Ron before, of course, but this was different. He told me that. . ." She looked down, her face flooding red.

A dream about Ron. She had to bring him up. "He told you what? And what does this have to do with Hermione being crazy? Are you saying....?" He searched his mind for a joke. Anything remotely funny. "Are you saying Ron's maybe haunting your dreams or something?"

That wasn't funny. It wasn't funny at all.

And for some reason Ginny actually laughed again. "You know, he'd probably do something like that, knowing him."

Maybe Ron would. "So what did you dream he told you?"

The blush returned. "I need to go shower, too. I'll talk to you later."

She left the notes on the chair.

* * *

That hadn't been bad, Ron decided. The conversation between Harry and Ginny had actually gone quite well. So well that two hours later he was still talking about it.

"How come she didn't mention dreaming about me?" Percy whined as he picked at the pages of a spectral book. "I was there."

"You told her she shouldn't date Harry. Maybe her subconscious burned that out."

Percy sighed and slammed the book shut. "Maybe we should ask Binns if he knows anything more about the McFly family. I still think that names sounds familiar."

"Very familiar," Ron agreed. "You're supposed to know everyone through the Ministry. Why don't you recognize it?"

Percy rolled his eyes and shoved the book back onto the shelf. Beneath them passed a trio of Ravenclaw girls. "You seem to have a lot of respect for the Ministry for all the complaining you do about it. Do you think we should ask the girls?"

"Dream and Cornelia? I think they're still mad at us. You think they could take a joke."

"I'm surprised they believed us. Now that was classic. We completely ruined their silly little game."

"But Harry and Ginny were talking!" Ron reminded, glancing at another dead book. "They haven't talked since I died."

"You know, you sound really excited about this. I think Jillie's corrupted you."

Maybe so. He was excited. After so much confusion he had found something comfortable in his sister and his friend getting along. Well, if it had to be anyone for Ginny, it might as well be Harry.

"They're not talking now," Percy said. "They're all just... studying together. Or where."

"Percy, there is nothing wrong with studying." That was where Ron wanted to go, a few shelves away to where Harry, Hermione, and Ginny were all silently doing homework. "You're the last person I thought I would hear this from."

"Hermione would have told you that. Did you have any idea she had gone home with Ginny?"

Ron just glared. That had been the worst. To find out that Hermione had been secretly sleeping down in the den the entire time. Maybe he could have said something to her.

McGonagall walked past then, tall hat brushing at the edges of the shelves. Ron jumped away. He wasn't visible, but he still almost expected McGonagall to tear into him. But of course she didn't see him and hurried past, eyes glancing at the tables among the shelves.

A student was searching the shelves and nearly scurried off in fright at the sight of McGonagall.

The student didn't get far, not with McGonagall's hand. "Have you seen Ginny Weasley? I heard she was in the library."

"Ginny?" Percy repeated.

The victim gulped and pointed in a direction.

"Thank-you, Davids." She hurried off again.

"What does she want Ginny for?" Ron asked.

"Like I'd know." Percy hopped off the shelf. "Come on."

Even shooting through the shelves wasn't fast enough to beat McGonagall to the table. Instead it was a tie, and Ron slid to a stop behind Hermione.

"Professor McGonagall," she said brightly.

McGonagall didn't reply. Her face was like stone. "I'm sorry, Miss Granger, but this concerns Miss Weasley."

Ginny's eyes went wide. "Did I--?"

Ron felt tempted to laugh. So Ginny had performed a small prank and suffered some guilt.

Percy elbowed him violently. "Quiet."

"Nothing you did," McGonagall said softly. "But you need to come to Dumbledore's office with me."

Ginny glanced at Harry.

McGonagall shook her head. "I'm sorry, Harry, but for once this doesn't concern you. Come, Ginny."

Looking like a ghost herself, Ginny followed McGonagall from the library.

Ron followed her, at least until a terrible jerk at his wrist pulled him back. He twisted his head around, snarling at Percy.

"We shouldn't go," Percy said solmenly. "I don't think we should."

"If it concerns Ginny, it concern us," Ron snapped.

"Ron, please—"

Something was wrong. He could tell that just from the look in McGonagall's eyes. And if something was wrong with Ginny... "Percy, for once, don't care if there will be a disaster. You've caused enough." He probably shouldn't have said it, but it worked. At least it surprised Percy enough that Ron could take control of the bindings.

He hadn't been in Dumbledore's office since the night he had been killed. He slid through a wall, and for one brief moment it might as well have been that same night all over again.

Percy allowed himself to be dragged in, complaining. "We shouldn't be here. We—"

Ron paid no attention to him. If he had, he would have agreed. This wasn't right at all.

The door opened, and Ginny entered, alone and frightened. Apparently whatever it was didn't concern McGonagall, either.

"Mum?" Her voice echoed in the room. "Did I leave something at home? I just left this morning—"

The entire Weasley family was there. That wasn't right. Again Ron considered leaving. His parents were there, the twins, Bill, Charlie, and now Ginny. And Dumbledore, looking very grave from his desk. And, to make it even stranger, so was Remus Lupin.

Percy swore under his breath.

"Ginny's here." Remus spoke almost regretfully. "I guess..." He glanced at Dumbledore.

Arthur took a deep breath, a sad attempt to hide his confusion. "I'd like to know what is so urgent. That we all had to hear."

Dumbledore nodded slowly. "As you know, for the past few weeks we've been sorting out all the messes that Lord Voldemort has left us. Remus Lupin has been working with some of the Ministry of Magic disasters. We've found out several things... Cornelius Fudge has already been taken from his position, but he was just sentenced to Azkaban imprisonment this morning."

Fred and George exchanged nervous laughs.

Dumbledore almost smiled. Almost.

Dumbledore was only grim for good reasons, Ron realized.

"Remus," Dumbledore said. "You're the one who found this out. Perhaps it's best you present it."

Remus looked ready to kill the headmaster. "Arthur, Molly, you're well-aware of all the problems the Ministry has suffered the past few years. Even when they agreed to work with us, that was very limited. Even now we don't know how deep the inner corruption has gone. But it turns out that there were people in the Ministry who truly were on our side. Unfortunately, higher members wouldn't allow that. They were secretly executed."

Molly gasped.

"Let's leave," Percy hissed. "Let's leave now."

"This happened a year ago. We've had confessions and... other evidence." Remus sighed and shook his head. "I'm making this so much worse, I know. I don't know how to handle these things. You've already been through so much."

"Perhaps you should just tell us," Bill said softly.

For a long time Remus couldn't speak. Ron knew why.

"Percy was among them. He was murdered a year ago."

* * *

* * *

**SHOUT OUTS!!!**

_Happy Halloween!_

v-babe24: He was visible before...

Tru Lys: I'm going to make a Percy sympathizer out of you yet.

Tap Dancing Widow: I'll try and get you more twins. )

Tabitha78: Lol. Stage-blood is fun. No, the McFlys are not related to Snape. It's the fact it's a potions classroom.

starsmiles: Actually, I'm not sure what Ginny really thinks, since I never give her a perspective.

Satine-cm: You know, I don't know why Ron doesn't tell Nick to tell them. Very good point. I guess he really is letting himself be influenced by Percy. And he still is recovering from the Hermione incident.

Rosepetal13: Harry and Ginny will never be just a baby crush! Never!

Quixotic-Feline: I love your new name! Tis fun. Thanks!

Poemzie: Don't worry; Ron will find a way to deal with girls. Somehow. Maybe.

Meenrocks: well, I always wondered how the Bloody Baron died... and since no one knew, I figured it had to be humiliating.

LJ Fan: Thanks! The chapter was actually quite hard to write.

Lahar: Yup. Poor Baron.

Lady Meriadoc: You guessed it. It is indeed Jamie McFly.

Lady Kazaana: I decided acid wasn't as funny.

Krenya: Yeah. You'd expect someone like the Bloody Baron to have a far more dramatic death...

Hydraspit: I find it said that you forget Ron is dead. Thanks!

HiddenFlame42: Now I want to hear you and your friends' story.

EternallyLost: And there will be vengeance!

Emikae: Thanks!

Dr. Huff-Puff: I made you cry? Wow. I actually cried when I wrote that part. Actually more during the part with Percy. As for the Bloody Baron, he knows how he dies. He just wants the McFlys punished.

Duj: The Ministry kept it very secret. And it was so chaotic there during the last few years. I also assume that Arthur spent a lot of time with the Order. But I shall go more into that later. Because I just had to end on a cliffie.

db: I think Percy has suffered plenty.

Crystal Lightning: And they will go visible more often. Update something.

CharliesMommy: Percy's just very sensitive to the fact that Harry lived while Ron died.

ArcherofDarkness: You're right. Broccoli is funnier.


	25. Bindings

_Another chapter in a week! Be ye proud? Well, this goes out to Dr. Huff-Puff for being the 600th reveiwer. Thanks!_

_I really hope you guys appreciate this chapter. Thanks for everything._

* * *

* * *

The room went silent. Ron watched his father's eyes, blinking in confusion, flip from Remus to Dumbledore and back. Arthur's body was tense beneath his robes. "What?"

The first words in a series of too-long seconds.

Remus shuddered. "Arthur, I'm sorry, I know it's a terrible and probably completely random thing to hear, but—"

"That's not funny." Molly had spoken, voice frighteningly clear.

From his desk Dumbledore sighed.

Fred even laughed, a blunt sound void of any real humor.

"That's not funny at all," she continued.

"Molly," Dumbledore began.

"How dare you tell us that sort of thing."

How much she could sound like a snake, Ron realized.

Bill had fallen against the wall, shocked. Charlie was just waiting.

Did they believe Remus? Ron hovered lower, drawing closer to the family. Dumbledore was also telling them. They would always believe Dumbledore, wouldn't they?

His mother's voice was rising as she spoke, still remaining cutting. "We... we just lost Ron. You can't—"

Dumbledore and Remus exchanged glances of almost-desperation.

"No." It was Arthur again. "That isn't true. No offense, Remus, but I don't believe you. Percy has left, but he isn't dead. Whatever documentation you have... I'm as aware as you are of what chaos the Ministry is in. You can't be sure at all of anything."

Ginny's breathing had changed.

Ron was suddenly very confused. This wasn't at all what his death announcement had been. Of course, there had been a body as evidence...

Then he felt a pain that might as well have taken off his hand, and the room rushed backwards to be replaced by the inside of a wall and then the stony outside.

"Hey!" He jerked into air, somehow stopping. "Percy!"

Percy huddled in the upper corner where the wall met the ceiling, his face buried beneath his arms. "Sorry."

The apology was real.

Ron rubbed his wrist. "What... what was that for?"

"I'm not listening to that."

"Perce—"

"I'm not listening to that!" The words were an explosion, and Percy sprang away from the corner and was off down the hall.

Percy was determined to torture him! Ron gritted his teeth and followed, not waiting for the yank. "What is your problem?"

His brother froze in the air, but didn't turn. "Why are you following me?"

If that wasn't the stupidest comment of the century. Ron stopped as well, shy a few feet of running into him. "In case you haven't noticed, I don't really have a choice."

"I don't care. Leave."

"It doesn't really work that way. Percy, why won't you go back there?"

He sniffed, still not turning around. Ron could see the side of Percy's glasses focused motionlessly at... something. "Why don't you go back if you care so much?"

He really had lost it. "Because of these stupid ropes!"

"Ron, just leave. Go away now."

Ron couldn't think of a reply.

"The Baron said we had three days a year apart. We already used one. I want to be separated."

It was insane. Back in Dumbledore's office their family was being told something, and now Percy wanted to waste a day. Out here, talking like this.

"Don't you want to be separated?" Percy continued. It was a demand.

Hardly aware of himself, Ron nodded.

Percy Vaporated.

Twenty-four hours. Another twenty-four hours alone. Ron plucked at the rope at his wrist in disbelief. "What just happened?" he muttered.

Percy was upset. Why? Why was it so much better that their family never know what happened? Twisted logic never made sense. He glanced back down the hall. Dumbledore's office was down there. His family was probably still inside, listening to whatever Remus had to say.

How come Percy didn't want to hear?

Well, if Percy wouldn't listen, he would. With a laugh he plunged down the hall. Freedom. Freedom again. Of course, they had now used two days within a month.

Somehow it wasn't all that satisfying.

He raced toward the office, half-wondering what morbid curiosity was drawing him there. So they knew Percy was dead. Or at least Remus was trying to tell them. He just had to know their reactions.

They were all there, still standing in the office. Not that he had really expected them to leave. And they were all still the same. Except his father was now shouting at Dumbledore, who had finally emerged from his desk.

Arthur still thought they were wrong.

"We've evidence!" Remus exclaimed. "Arthur, you have to—"

Arthur whirled on him, eyes practically blazing. "I still don't believe you."

For a moment it seemed Remus would explode, but he never had and probably never would. "I know that. But think. You would have at least seen him around the Ministry. Once over the course of a year."

Arthur sniffed. "That doesn't mean anything. You know how much he supported Fudge. You know that. He could have been wrapped into any little Ministry secret. For all we know, he could have been sent somewhere!"

Ron forgot how stubborn his father could be.

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "If he did indeed support the Ministry, why did he help us when the rest refused to cooperate."

"He didn't." Arthur's face lost some of its redness.

The rest of the family. Did they think that? Ron shifted his position near the ceiling. They just... stood there, waiting.

Except his mum. She stood with the rest of them, but tears slid silently down her face.

He had forgotten how hard it was to watch that.

"I've been saving some things," Dumbledore said, moving back to his desk and fiddling with a drawer. "Hestia Jones sent them up a few weeks ago. Documents from the Order. You do remember all that anonymous information we received forever ago? Those letters about whatever the Ministy was secretly doing that wasn't cooperating with us? Well, she did send them to me and I hope I didn't toss them out... Here we are." He fished a thin stack of papers from the drawer. "I never even really looked at the handwriting... You'd recognize Percy's, wouldn't you?" He held the stack out.

Arthur hesitated before carefully taking them, and even then they remained low, too far from his eyes.

"Read them, Dad," Bill urged.

Slowly Arthur brought them up, as if they were something dangerous.

Ron considered going in for a better look.

His father stared at the top page for a long time, then flipped through the others, selecting an occasional sheet to receive the same stare. Then the parchments fell to the floor. "That's his writing," he murmured.

Molly gave a small cry and dove for the papers, but Fred and George beat her to it.

"Why did he leave, then?" George demanded, clutching a letter so tightly Ron was sure it would rip. "If he really wanted to help, then why did he do what he did?"

"I don't know if there's an answer for that," Remus said softly.

"We'll ask him," Arthur muttered. "We'll find him and we'll ask him."

Remus closed his eyes, thinking. "Is there anything Dumbledore or I could say—"

"No. You have no proof. So they claim to have documented the people they had murdered. That means nothing."

Ginny didn't bother to look at the papers. She simply stood up and walked to the door.

Dumbledore sighed. "Arthur... I don't know how to tell you this, but we've found the bodies."

It was as if something had been stabbed through Ron. But it was stupid. He was perfectly aware Percy was dead. He wasn't supposed to...

The door flung open, and Ginny was gone.

It wasn't a conscious decision, but the next thing Ron knew was that he was after her. Not exactly chasing, but...

He didn't want to listen anymore, either.

* * *

"I'm worried," Hermione said. The same two words she had been repeating constantly over the past fifteen minutes, as they had waited impatiently in the library and now wandered the halls not exactly where Dumbledore's office was, but they were certainly in the proximity. "Harry, I'm really worried. I mean, she just went home for the weekend! It was supposed to be good for. It's sickening of McGonagall to have her worrying over something else."

Harry nodded, barely hearing her. He didn't mean to be quiet; he was just as worried. And then there was the fact that whatever it was didn't concern him. For the first time in almost seven years...

Hermione sighed and pulled out the textbook she had dragged with her, balancing it carefully in her arms while she walked.. "You don't think it's with her family, do you?"

The Weasleys. Harry flinched. "They would have told us."

She sighed again and opened the book. "But you have hardly talked to them."

"They don't want to hear me."

The book closed. Harry almost regretted it. Hermione was in one of her mind frames, and he was the idiot who had dragged it on. "Harry, I thought you were over that. For crying out loud, you were not responsible."

"I know." His eyes closed. He knew that. Most of the time.

"Please. Just talk to them a little. They'd like it." The book tucked under her arm, she turned a corner. "Ginny!"

An echo in his head. Harry darted forward, and barely avoided a trampling as Ginny Weasley ran into him.

It was an accident, he realized. She had been running, and he had just happened to be in her way. It could have just as easily been Hermione. And even she was there, standing politely to the side with still an arm extended to Ginny's shoulder.

And she was crying into his. He had never been good in those situations.

"What's wrong?" he asked, hoping to sound more sympathetic than bewildered. She hadn't spoken to him for a month; he wasn't going to let that happen again.

She shook her head, hiccupping.

Hermione swore under her breath. "Ginny, can you tell us?"

This time she nodded, grinding the salty tears into Harry's shirt. It was a lot better than ink, he supposed.

But what was wrong? He slid his arms around her in an awkward hug. As he did so, he caught Hermione's eye. For some odd reason, she nodded.

Ginny mumbled something into his shoulder.

"Ginny, I can't—"

She pushed away—no, not away, just enough to speak. "Percy," she repeated.

"Percy?" One of his hands twisted itself into a twist. Percy Weasley. The one who hadn't even appeared for Ron's funeral. Was he back? Finally, after two years?

And doing this to Ginny?

Hermione put her hands over her mouth.

Ginny pressed her face back into his shirt and continued to cry for another minute. Then, in a clear, tiny voice "He's dead."

Hermione tumbled back into the wall.

Percy was dead. It made no sense. The one who had given his family so much grief...

"It was a over a year ago," Ginny managed. For this brief moment she was tearless. "He... actually helped us. So Fudge had him killed."

It only sent Harry's mind into a faster whirl.

And now Ginny had her arms around his neck, crying even more than before.

He tightened his hold on her. "I'm really sorry."

No reply from her but tears. He leaned his head onto hers.

He didn't notice when Hermione left.

* * *

By the time Ron noticed them, standing in the hallway, it was too late. It couldn't be his fault, could it? He hadn't yet managed to get rid of the notion that people might actually move to get out of his way, especially when there was so much on his mind. He skidded away at the last moment, his torso crashing through the legs of Ginny and Harry.

He leaped up. They would have had to feel that.  
But somehow it didn't look that way.

He stepped back, scrutinizing the scene. Utterly innocent. He really hadn't thought of where Ginny might run. Maybe Harry had just been another clueless victim.

Ginny was crying. Crying horribly, leaving a big wet spot in Harry's shirt where her face was pressed.

If only Percy were there to see it.

This wasn't any of his business, Ron suddenly realized. Not at all. Even if it had managed to knock him from his own thoughts for a moment. Besides, there really wasn't anything to watch it. Harry was only comforting her.

The common room, Ron told himself. He'd just go... there.

He glanced at them one more time before he Vaporated. It really was quite satisfying to see.

* * *

This is ridiculous, Hermione thought as she trudged her way to her dorm, wiping madly at her stinging eyes. This is ridiculous and stupid and you should probably be thrilled they're down their together, anyway. She dropped to her bed, where Crookshanks had been sleeping, and scratched at his favorite spot behind his ear. He yawned drowsily and did his kitty stretch, tail flipping into her face.

She was thrilled. And that wasn't something she was in denial about. She could feel her heart pounding, little chemicals in her brain rushing around like rapids in a stream. At any other time she'd be jumping around the room laughing. Ginny and Harry. Doing something. Ginny finally over whatever she was going through and back on to genuine interest in Harry. Dang, but it was cute. Not that she was completely sure Harry comforting a weeping Ginny counted for a romantic anything, but it was something. They were speaking. Yes, she was wholly excited by everything.

What she didn't understand was why she had to be crying like this. She scooped Crookshanks into her lap, burying her face in his fur. Cats were so nice to have around. He couldn't understand a thing of what she was feeling, but at least he was letting her hug him. Such a good cat. He uttered one little mewl and gave a minor struggle for freedom, but one that didn't have much enthusiasm behind it.

She hoped he wouldn't mind her tears.

She wasn't upset over Harry and Ginny, of course. Unless she did have some subconscious desire for the boy. No, the kiss had taken care of that possibility! Maybe it was empathy. Ginny had to be upset. Losing someone else...

Percy. The heat behind her eyes increased, and she squeezed Crookshanks tighter. Was that it? And she didn't even know the news. Just that Percy was dead and... Fudge? It was all a blur of information.

But Ginny had said Percy had even helped them. And now, apparently he was dead.

She sniffed, letting more tears come. Yes, that had to be part of the reason. But if it was, why was she still so confused?

How would Ron feel about all of this?

At least Ginny had a shoulder to cry on.

* * *

The common room. Utterly usual, how it always was, with the couches and the fireplace and random people hanging around. Of all the places in the castle, in the world, why did he have to come back here?

How long would it take Ginny to make her way back up?

Ron floated to the level of one of the chairs, his mind once again racing. So it was out. They all knew. Before morning, the whole school would know. Of course they would. People had known Percy, he had been Head Boy and all of that good stuff.

And Percy hadn't wanted them to know.

Ron sighed, leaning away from a passing third-year. They didn't know in here, yet. Or at least he didn't think so. Would they care about the death of a former Gryffindor? Percy had never been exactly popular.

Why did he keep thinking about this?

"Poor thing," a voice said. One he recognized as Lavender Brown's. "She's just up there with her cat. I feel so bad about running in there laughing now."

"But it was pretty fun," Parvati replied. They passed Ron and hopped onto chairs. "Well, before Hermione. I thought she was doing better. And then she said she doesn't even want to talk."

"I hope it's not some report or anything pitiful like that."

Hermione. Ron looked around, almost hoping to see her pop out from behind a chair or something. But no.

Parvati and Lavender were now discussing whatever funny thing had happened. Something involving some Hufflepuff boy.

Hermione was probably in their dorm. And crying. Maybe it was over homework. How like her.

But she was crying. The next thing he knew he was at the staircase to the girls' dorms, half-expecting the steps to flatten into a slide. What the heck was he doing? He knew perfectly well he couldn't enter. And yet for whatever reason he was going up there. Maybe the barrier wouldn't be up during the day.

He was at the landing, doors all around him. He had no idea which belonged to the seventh-year girls. Like he'd be able to enter anyway.

He kept going forward. There it was, that strange sticky invisible whatever that just so happened to be tailored toward ghosts. Ignore it, he told himself. He pushed forward.

Lightning blasted through him. Yes, the barrier was still in place.

Maybe if he just kept pushing...

No, the barrier worked at him, pushing him back. With one twist of the shocking energy, he was half-way through the floor.

"So you've returned to this, eh?" Jillie hovered above him, grinning broadly. Apparently she had forgot what they had done. Or simply no longer believed them.

He stared back at her, waiting for the ability to move. "I want to see Hermione."

Jillie laughed and shook her head. "I'm sorry, but that's why we've a barrier in front of the girls' dorms. You can't see her."

"I don't care. They said down there that she was crying."

She pursed her lips together. "I'm impressed, Ron Weasel. Most young men never want to put up with a crying girl."

That was a good point. But he still didn't care. "Yeah, well, I'm the exception."

She shook her head and extended her hand. He took it, and she pulled him up. "You lied to us the other night, you and your brother. Where is he, anyway?"

"He took the day off. And we didn't lie."

"It took us a full hour to decide you had lied, but we did it. And then, of course, Dream just saw Harry and Ginny downstairs." She laughed again. "Isn't it wonderful?"

Ron smiled in spite of himself. It kind of was. "He's just comforting her."

"So?"

Apparently it didn't matter to these girls. "If you're so big on them being together, why won't you let me see Hermione?"

"Hermione," Jillie echoed. Her gaze turned to the dorm doors. "Well, I'm not the one not letting you see her. I can't do anything about the barrier. Why does it matter right now? She'll leave soon enough."

He couldn't answer that himself. "I just... need to see her."

"Hmm." Her eyes widened. "What if... what if I went through with you. Because it will let me across."

"What?" He blinked. What an idea. "Do you think that would work?"

She shrugged. "Couldn't it hurt to try. Come on. Maybe if we go fast enough." She grabbed Ron's wrist and flew at the invisible barrier.

He was going to crash. He struck the stickiness, but it might as well have been a spider's web before he was through it. The shocking was next. He screamed as the lightning went through him the second time in under two minutes. Jillie jerked back, but still held on.

"Keep going," she urged.

His hand slipped around her wrist. An extra hold. He pushed against the barrier. It only reacted more. Jillie pulled at his arm, and not gently. He thought he was going to die all over again.

And then it was over. The remnants of the lightning sensation tingled through him.

Bloody hell, it had thrown him back again. He slowly opened his eyes. The wall around him had slightly changed. The doors were a lot closer.

He was through.

Jillie lay next to him, panting. "Wow," she murmured. "Ron, promise me you will tell no one we did that."

He nodded dizzily.

"I think you are the first boy who has ever been this close to the girls' rooms. Ever."

Again he nodded. It was quite an accomplishment.

"And you'll even get to enter those rooms." She pointed at one. "I think that's the one where the seventh-year girls are. Good luck."

He stared at the door. He was going to see where Hermione and everyone else slept. Slowly he slid his hand through the wood, then dropped it and turned around. "Jillie? Thanks."

She laughed and somersaulted back across the barrier. "I probably should have sought revenge, but oh well."

She still might, he thought to himself. Then he slid through the door.

One thing was for sure: the girls' dorms were a lot bigger. And nicer. The walls and beds (which were also bigger) had to have been replaced in the last century. Which was more than he could say for the guys' dorms. They even had carpet, and huge mirrors stretching over the walls, decorated with flowers and cutouts. Amazing. No wonder the administration didn't want boys in there.

He was quick to find Hermione's bed. The curtains were drawn, but she definitely was crying.

Maybe he shouldn't be here.

But he already was, and if he had gone through all the trouble of getting through the barrier, who cared about what was right? He went through the curtains.

She was huddled on the bed, all but covered by her stupid cat. Crookshank's eyes were bugging out from the squeeze, and it only took them a moment to settle on Ron.

He had forgotten the animal could see him.

Crookshanks snarled, broke free from Hermione's arms, and jumped at him. He bounded back. "Crookshanks, don't."

To his amazement, the cat actually listened. Crookshanks sat down on the blanket, yellow eyes still on Ron, bottlebrush tail perched in the air.

"Crookshanks, what's wrong?" Hermione mumbled, grabbing at him.

The cat gave a hiss, then allowed himself to be retrieved.

Hermione returned to her tears.

Ron just wished he knew what she was crying over. It was so awkward, just being there. Even if she could see him, what was he supposed to do? Let her cry all over him like Harry let Ginny?

So he just sat there—he had gotten rather good at hovering just so—while she sobbed into Crookshanks' fur, and the cat still glowered at him.

If only he could say something to her. He still remembered when Ginny saw him.

Another moment of insanity. Go visible, he told himself.

Crookshanks seemed to recognize the change. Hermione didn't look up.

Say something, he thought. You have to get her attention. But he couldn't think of anything. He hadn't spoken to her in a month.

It had to look terrible. A ghost boy sitting on a girl's bed while she cried. If anyone were to walk in, it would be bad.

Hermione's crying stopped. She still didn't look up.

She had actually fallen asleep, cat still in her arms. She just had to make it difficult.

He shook his head and let himself slip back into invisibility. Crookshanks looked much calmer.

"Hermione," he muttered. Without thinking he reached forward and brushed her cheek. All he could feel was warmth.

He didn't think of the barrier until he was back outside. Jillie had gone. How was he supposed to get back across?

It turned out the barrier only worked one way. Whoever had designed it really didn't care about a punishment for those who could break it. Rather convenient.

So he had actually gotten into the girls' dorms. He had made Hogwarts history. He couldn't wait to tell Percy, for all hell to break loose from him.

Except he had no idea where Percy was.

The Grey Lady was waiting for him when he returned to the common room. She had to be invisible. That, or Parvati and Lavender didn't care about a rival house ghost in their presence. Ron hadn't seen the Grey Lady since she had revealed her involvement.

She didn't seem worried about backlash, but smiled her warm smile.

Ron stared at her. "What are you doing here?"

"I heard about your deal with the Baron," she replied. "I must say that I'm pleased everything is working out."

He gave a short laugh. "Well, his task his next to impossible."

"At least it's still possible. Walk with me." Without waiting for a response she turned and drifted through the wall.

Why not? Ron thought bitterly, and followed.

"I would like to apologize again for what I did," the Grey Lady said. "It was terrible of me, and I've sworn a vow to never do that." She laughed. "Still, it's nice to show that Ravenclaws can be just as cunning as Slytherins."

Ron coughed.

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

She led them around the hall, past a group of chattering portraits. "I notice your brother Percy isn't with you at the moment. I'm assuming he's using one of your free days?"

How observant. "He just... wanted a day away."

"Your family heard about him, didn't they?"

Ron glanced at her in surprise.

Her smile deepened. "Word gets around. I must say that I feel rather sorry for him. It must be tough to have such a secret out in the open."

"He abandoned them."

"Them? But he didn't abandon you?"

What the heck was she talking about? "Yes," he said quickly. "But at least I knew about him before. Percy being dead. My parents didn't."

"And Percy never appeared to them and told them."

"He didn't want them to know." Ron shook his head. "But they still found out, so why does it matter? Our brothers Fred and George... they're probably still mad."

She held up her hand, examining her spectral gloves. "Are you still mad?"

"What kind of question is that?"

"You know that envelope I had you bring me? The one my sister and I could never get around to fetching ourselves?"

Ron rolled his eyes. He hadn't forgotten.

The Grey Lady's hand went to her pocket, and she pulled the envelope out and opened it. "It's something silly, from centuries ago. Something silly to keep around. My sister contacted me from the Tower of London the other day just to laugh with me about it."

"What is it?" he asked.

She laughed, shrugging. "Jane and I got into some trouble a few centuries back. Not when we were alive; we had different troubles then. But, wow, the things we tend to keep around." She handed the envelope to Ron. "It was my inspiration for the Bloody Baron and you two."

Inside were the ratty remains of two short pieces of rope.

* * *

A graveyard. What a place to pick to run off to. And this cemetery, of all the ones in Britain.

Of course, Ron wasn't positive this was a good place to search.

It was late afternoon, the sun still toying with the idea of setting. It was probably cold, if he could feel that sort of thing. It hadn't been cold that other night.

He could still see the place where Harry had defeated Lord Voldemort. Not far from that was the hill.

He brushed his hand over the grass there, imagining the Killing Curse flying at him, and himself falling like a log. And to think he hadn't even been aware of it.

Maybe he should look somewhere else.

So what graveyard was this?

He wandered down into the headstones, cold and muggy and... rocks. Headstones were strange, he decided. Very strange. And familiar. He had seen this place before, even before the time with Harry and Voldemort.

Relatives had been buried here. Of course he realized that. It's the reason he had come here.

But not for those headstones.

He continued to drift among them, looking.

And then he walked right through one of the headstones.

With a yelp he jumped back, hurdling into the air. This stone was different from the others. Clean, void of moss. New. A bouquet of some orange flower rested on top.

Ronald Bilius Weasley

March 1, 1980—October 10, 1997

Beloved Son, Friend, and Hero

Ron gasped. He had never wanted to see this, and he didn't want to see it now. How had they managed to put this up? His eyes fell to the earth beneath the stone. His body was under there.

Who had brought the flowers?

He gazed at the headstone for a long time. Beloved Son, Friend, and Hero.

Did they really mean that?

Almost cautiously, he touched the stone, pushing his fingers through. The sensation of cold stone was still amazing.

Then he turned to leave.

"What are you doing here?"

Ron flinched. He had been right to come here.

Percy was nestled under a tree, knees at his chest. Beneath his glasses his face was misty and wet. He had been crying.

Ron had never seen him do that. He cleared his throat, out of habit. "I was just..." He couldn't think of an excuse. "I thought you might be here."

Percy blinked. "Whatever gave you that idea? I told you..."

"Yeah, I know what you told me." He crossed the ground to the tree and plunked down, taking special care not to go into the earth or the tree.

Percy didn't look at him. "So... you like your gravestone?"

Ron shrugged. "That's an extremely morbid question. I'm supposed to like a gravestone?"

Percy sniffed. "I guess you're right."

For a long time they said nothing.

"Are they... how are they doing?"

Ron shrugged again. "I didn't really watch all of it... Ginny was crying, though. She's upset."

"Like I really wanted to know that."

"I thought you might."

The sun finally decided to start setting. And there they were, sitting in a bloody cemetery.

Percy coughed, almost an excuse to start talking again. "You realize that you just wasted twenty hours of our free day?"

"I know."

* * *

* * *

**SHOUT OUTS!**

**_v-babe24:_** Time passes strangely in my story. It gives me an excuse to do the rod'n'reel!

**_Tru Lys:_** McGonagall is sad because... she senses something is wrong. But Molly and Arthur were his parents... why can't they cry over him? (I refuse to cease my efforts)

**_Tabitha78:_** Wow, that chapter really did that to you? Eep! Well, thanks so much for telling me that! )

**_Satine-cm:_** Yep, poor Weasleys! What did you think of their reactions? As for the ink thing.. it was completely spur of the moment. My friend Sterling walked in while I was writing the chapter...

**_rosepetal13:_** I'm not being too mean to the Weasleys, am I?

**_Quixotic-Feline:_** I took your advice on the family's reactions. Actually, it was what I was going to do anyway, but I'll the credit to you. I do need tender moments for this story, but it does need its humor! Once again, thanks.

**_Phillippa of the Phoenix: _**H/G forever! Yes, Molly will be losing it! And I had to show Percy's feelings, I had to. He is a human!

**_Newfoundfreedom:_** I'm glad you like Binnichan! Sure, I'll put him in the story some more.

**_mirficus:_** Thank-you so much for your review! I really appreciated it. I can't believe you read the whole thing at this point!

**_meenyrocks:_** Oh, dear. Jane Austen homework. Good luck with that! Yeah... I mean, we all did know that Percy was dead, but.. no one else knew!

**_liseli:_** Thanks.. I'm so glad you liked that line. I'm proud of it. But, yeah, I really appreciate your review!

**_LJ Fan:_** Yay for Mulan! I adore that movie! Feel free to talk all you want about it. Wow, I'm glad I got you feeling you were intruding...

**_Lahar:_** Harry does need to rebond with the Weasley clan, doesn't he? Don't worry!

**_Lady Kazaana:_** Gasp! When did Furfoot kick the bucket? CORNELIA WILL COMFORT HIM!!!

**_Lady Meriadoc:_** I also imagined Remus being very sad. I mean, Remus is close to the Weasleys!

**_Krenya:_** Yeah, Hermione and Ginny came back on a Monday. I sort of skipped over the rest of the weekend. Yes, I do like the idea of Harry getting flustered over a girl.

**_JustCurious:_** I'll see what I can do; I'm actually kind of on a roll...

**_hydraspit:_** I'm glad you're noticing the similarities! I feel bad for Percy, too. I mean, no one has cried over him, and he's been dead a year. Poor dude.

**_EternallyLost:_** If it hadn't ruined my plans for this story... I was this close to taking your idea! I love it! It would have been hilarious!

**_emikae:_** Thanks! You'll see what they do with the family.

**_Dr. Huff-Puff:_** Percy knew right away that someone had found out about his death, and he didn't want to hear about it.

**_duj:_** I bet they regret taking down the clock hand.

**_db_**: And there is even more angst on the way!

**_Crystal Lightning:_** Thanks!

**_Captain Canija_:** Thanks! As for your question... I will ending the story at neither of those events.


	26. Ramen is People!

_I feel like I kind of denied you a cliffie last chapter, so here's one with accompanying shout outs at the beginning!_

**SHOUT OUTS!**

Tru Lys: Well, I do think Crookshanks understands Hermione's feelings but... cats just aren't like that. Or Hermione doesn't get that Crookshanks doesn't understand. But he was there for her at least. And yes, the flowers should have been maroon. They know that's Ron's fave color.

Tabitha78: Well, happy late birthday! I hope it was a good one! Yup, Hermione realized how much she missed Ron. Kudos on picking that up!

Starsmiles: Thanks! Well, I have heard that cats and dogs can see ghosts, and Crookshanks is special anyway... I'm glad you appreciated that chapter.

Satine-cm: Thanks! Yup, the girls would be thrilled.

Rosepetal13: Hmm... I don't know how I write from Hermione's perspective. It sort of comes easier for me, because she's so practical. But she also has those random outbursts of emotion... just think about how Hermione feels about different things.

Quixotic-Feline: Thanks! Ooh, I just love the Ginny/Harry ship, so you must survive me flaunting it! Bwahaha!

Pline: Yup, poor everyone. I enjoy making other people's characters suffer.   
Phillipa of the Phoenix: Actually, Percy is just a very good humanoid robot...

Padfoot the evil elf: I happen to believe that Arthur still really loves Percy despite everything... I swear he does!

Moonyrocks: aww... thanks!

Mooncheese: Yes! Right on! Jane Grey is Lady Jane Grey! I like her, so I had to use her! And thanks for everything you said.

Mirficus: Thanks!

LJ Fan: I'm stealing your ending. )

Liseli: Hey, it's Hermione's fault for falling asleep... )

Lady Meriadoc: I had to have Ginny crying on his shoulder! I need my G/H!

Lady Kazaana: Poor dead Furfoot! And... right!

Krenya: Thanks!

Hydraspit: Yeah... Percy has been through so much! It's not fair!

Eohthen Lord of Rohan: Thanks!

Emikae: No, he's not immune to the barriers like that. But it wouldn't be good to accidentally trap boys in girls-only areas, so it's a one-day deal.

Duj: Yeah..I noticed you begging for that chapter for sometime. So it was for you.

Dr. Huff-Puff: I hope you appreciate the goodies here! Yes, Hermione really should have not cried herself to sleep at that point. Shame on her. Well, it's her loss.

Db: Yeah, I figured denial would be one of the first things.

Crystal Lightning: It's very sad about Percy. And the fact that they have lost two sons! Thanks!

ArcherofDarkness: You'll see what happened to Percy's body later. )

* * *

It was really quite awkward, sitting under the tree in silence, save for an occasional remark that really didn't amount to anything. The sun set, enveloping the graveyard in darkness. Graveyards were terrible at night, especially that one. Ron could still imagine himself on the hill, getting Avada Kedavrad to death, all in the still night. And yet he had to come back to sit for hours with Percy. Several times he considered leaving, just Vaporating back to Hogwarts or maybe the Burrow or anywhere. But for some reason, he couldn't bring himself to do it. 

The silence became too much. "So what happened when Penelope saw you?" he asked.

Percy jerked around, surprised. "Penny? I guess... Ron why are you bringing this up?"

He shrugged. "I'm just curious. You don't mind?"

For several long moments Percy didn't speak, just stared at the ground. "I just... I just really wanted to see her. I didn't know what I was thinking. She screamed. Really loud."

Ron almost laughed. "She always seemed so quiet."

"That's what I thought." Sadness etched his voice. "But that didn't really matter. I didn't dare say anything. I just left. It was at her job at St. Mungo's. She was holding a tray of these different potions. It was a huge mess. Terrible."

"You got your ex-girlfriend into trouble?"

"Hm. She probably did get into trouble. But... Ron, you have no idea what it's like. For people to see you that way. Though with Cornelius Fudge," A slow smile came over his face. "That was almost fun."

Fudge. Anger slipped into Ron. He had never really liked Fudge, but now... Suddenly he was glad Fudge was in Azkaban. "Did you threaten him?"

Percy shook his head. "No. I think it was enough for him to see me. But he never did tell Mum and Dad. Which was for the best. And now he's in Azkaban."

"We should go haunt him." It was lovely image in his mind, a half-crazed Fudge dressed in rags screaming in a dank Azkaban cell while ghosts surrounded him.

"I'm not setting foot in there."

Another long stretch of awkward silence.

Ron had to keep it going. "Why can't you tell Mum and Dad?"

Percy shook his head, his hand slipping into a tuft of dead grass. "I thought we'd been through his, a hundred times. You have no idea what it's like. You weren't there with Penny."

"What about when Ginny saw me when we were in her room?" Ron shouted.

"She thought she was dreaming, Ron."

Percy didn't understand it. He couldn't. "So you prefer them like this?"

"I didn't say that." He pulled his hand away from the grass. "And what if I do? It's not worth it. You don't seem to get that yet. It's not worth it at all."

Ron grimaced and punched the tree. "When Ginny saw me..." He didn't know how to describe it. "I just... I just think I'd prefer that, no matter what you say."

Percy muttered something and turned to gaze skyward. "I just can't—"

He didn't finish his phrase. A figure popped from behind a gravestone—or, more likely, through it— the ghost of a teenage girl, hair slicked back in a ponytail, grinning madly.

"Great to see you here again!" she exclaimed.

Ron and Percy stared.

Her grin barely slackened as she drifted closer. "I don't think you remember me. I was here when you died, and you couldn't Vaporate. I—"

"Jamie McFly," Ron sighed. Of course he remember her. Perhaps he should be polite. "Thanks... thanks for the help."

"You're welcome!" she sang. "Yes, I'm still haunting this cemetery, if that's what you were going to ask. It's quite fun." She nodded at Percy. "I think you were here awhile ago." Her focus returned to Ron. "And I still don't know your name."

Percy coughed and nudged Ron. "Well, she's friendly."

Jamie continued as if they were still paying attention. Which, Ron realized, he had no choice but to. "I died right over there." She pointed. "It was fascinating. Probably one of the most interesting ways to die. I still can't really give all the details, but it involved a Muggle toaster and a rubber snake. Yes, really bizarre, especially in the McFly family—"

McFly. Ron jumped up. Why hadn't he thought of it before? Especially in the last twenty seconds... "You're in the McFly family?"

Jamie blinked. "Yes... that's my name."

Percy was up as well, staring at Jamie in something akin to horror. "Your family... are they all wizards?"

More chance for her to talk. "Yup. We're all pretty much purebloods. I mean, it's a pure line of wizardry for a good thousand years. Of course we have Muggles and the lot marrying in every couple generations or so, but for the most part—"

So she knew her family history.

"How much do you know about your ancestors?" Percy asked. Desperate excitement clung to his face.

"So much!" she exclaimed brightly. "We're all really into it, in my family."

This had to be a set-up, part of Ron whispered. It was all a joke put up by the Bloody Baron or the Grey Lady or maybe even Peeves. But at the same time it couldn't possibly. "Were you related to anyone by the name of Hadeus McFly?"

"Hadeus?" She stopped to think. "Yes... there was a bloke, I think, who was somehow responsible for accidentally killing someone just at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, centuries ago."

Ron felt light-headed. He glanced at Percy, who smiled back at him. This was it. This was what they needed. And to think she had been there from the moment of his death. He could almost feel the rope at his wrist loosen. Now all they had to was... He nearly choked. They were supposed to seek vengeance upon Hadeus' descendent. But Jamie... Jamie was obviously dead.

Percy evidently was thinking the same thing. "Jamie... do you have any siblings? Any family members alive?"

"Alive?" Jamie's smile grew wider. "Why? Did you want to meet them?"

And kill them, or something, Ron thought. No, he didn't think he could kill.

"Well, that's too bad," she continued. "Because unless there are any of my relatives' ghosts walking around the Earth, I'm it. You see, I was an only child, the fifth only child in like five generations, and then when my parents died... sadly enough, the McFly line died with them."

Ron almost fell back through the earth. No. It was too good to be true. "Are you serious?"

"Dead serious."

Suddenly Ron wanted to kick something. Well, he didn't know what he would have done if any McFlys had been alive.

She seemed to notice their disappointment. "Oh, you were really set on meeting them. I'm sorry. Exactly... exactly what did you need them for?"

Ron glared at Percy; he didn't feel like explaining anything.

Percy glared back for a few moments, then sighed. "We're supposed to seek revenge against a living descendent of Hadeus McFly. So we can be separated." Of course, he had to explain that whole situation next.

Jamie listened with rapt interest, nodding enthusiastically. "Wow," she said when Percy was finished. "That bites. Again, I'm sorry no one is alive."

Not as sorry as they were, Ron thought bitterly. "It's not your fault."

"If only there was something I could do to help." She ran her hands through her ponytail, murmuring under her breath. Then another smile exploded out of her. "I have an idea! I'm not sure how much help but... I found it when I attended Hogwarts; my dad told me about it. I left it there, but... oh, I don't know how to explain it. It's in the potions dungeon. I guess that my ancestor Hadeus was so upset about the death that he actually buried the stage blood under the floor. I'm not sure why."

"Stage blood," Percy echoed, frowning. "What could we do with that?"

What could one do with stage blood? Another hopeless path. But as Ron watched Jamie, an idea popped into his head. "What if we were the ones that killed you, Jamie?"

"Pardon?" She shook her head. "Look, whatever your name is—"

"Ron Weasley, listen—"

"No, Ron Weasley, you listen. You didn't kill me—I died before you were born. I was killed by a toaster and a rubber snake incident—"

Ron rolled his eyes. "I mean by pretend!"

"Pretend?" Jamie repeated.

But Percy understood. Behind his classes his eyes lit up, bright. "That's a great idea. The Bloody Baron wants us to kill someone, and Jamie is descended from the man who killed him. If we—"His face fell. "No, the blood would go right through her."

Of course it would. Ron smacked himself, and Jamie giggled.

"But I have got another idea," Percy said. "Jamie's already dead, right? So there is really no need for the Bloody Baron to seek revenge by death. But maybe that bottle of stage blood would satisfy him, bring something of closure. So if we showed the Baron the bottle...."

"You could reenact the death of his Baronship!"

The voice came from nowhere.

"What?" Percy muttered.

"Death, death, everywhere!" the voice sang. Familiar. And then the voice's owner appeared, popping into the air like a solid ball of rainbow. "The Bloody Baron does like death, and the Bloody Baron likes drama, as you can see from his own death. So why not act out death?"

"Peeves," Ron said flatly.

Yes, it was Peeves, happily floating in the nighttime graveyard, ridiculously out of place. If he belonged anywhere, it was Hogwarts. So why was he here?

"What are you doing in my graveyard?" Jamie demanded, her ponytail whipping out behind her head.

"I like graveyards," Peeves replied simply. "They're happy places."

"Why are you here?" Percy asked.

"Because graveyards are happy places!" The poltergeist did a series of flips and cartwheels through the air. "And to assist you with the Bloody Baron!"

Graveyards happy places? Ron surveyed his surroundings in disgust. Hardly. And how could Peeves help? "Why?"

Peeves paused, then hurdled down at Ron and grabbed his hose. "Because I'm the ghost council representative for Hogwarts!"

"Representative?" Ron squeaked. He shook Peeves' hand away. "No... you can't be."

"Yes I can. Because Peevesie is the greatest, and only the greatest and most handsome get to be representatives in the world of the living."

"You can't be serious," Percy said.

"Oh, no, I'm never serious." Peeves flew to Percy, snatching off his glasses. "But I am telling the truth." His face melted into a puppy dog pout. "Don't you believe me?"

Percy snatched at his glasses, and Peeves tossed them through a gravestone. "No, not really. A representative from the ghost council—"

"Shouldn't be a ghost!" Peeves declared. "And I'm not a ghost, I'm a poltergeist. There's a world of difference. For one thing, poltergeists are superior in every way while ghosts are morons. And mortals are wonderful to throw things at, but that doesn't have anything to do with anything..."

"I still don't like you in my graveyard," Jamie said.

Peeves was the representative they had been wondering about for a month? Ron put his hand to his head. If that wasn't insanity in action, what was? "So, if you really are who you say you are, why haven't you helped us?"

"Because it was the Grey Lady and the Bloody Baron who caused everything, and it was very entertaining." Peeves dashed to the glasses, which Percy was in the process of retrieving, and forced them onto Jamie's face. She squealed and ripped them off. "And I couldn't get in the way of that. But... it would be most fun to see death reenacted."

"But would the Baron go for that?" Percy asked dryly, finally retrieving his glasses and putting them back on. "I mean... it's stupid."

Peeves laughed. "The Bloody Baron will do whatever I want. For Ramen is made of people."

Ron, Percy, and Jamie stared. "What?"

"It's a universal truth," Peeves continued. "Ramen noodles are bodies chopped off into tiny pieces and packages out to Muggles. I can prove it."

Ron decided to let it go. "But... the Bloody Baron will obey you?"

"I thought you were afraid of the Baron," Percy said. "You were always—"

"He pays me off. He thinks it makes him look good. But back to his little play o' death... I'll be glad to help with it. I can hold the bottle. The blood will go through this girlie here, but it will look very nice while it does. The Baron will be thrilled, and if he's not, I'll make him be. It will be marvelous. And then he can have the bottle, and his whiney grudge will be satisfied. He'll want the bottle, that I'm sure of. Yes, I've just decided that a bottle of ancient stage blood is vital to all of this. And then I can guiltlessly make him lift your sentence."

"You'd do that?" Ron asked. He still wasn't sure whether to believe him but... the more he thought about it, what evidence did he have that Peeves wasn't the ghost council representative?   
"Most likely, I think," Peeves replied. "Well, if you decide to do this, I shall be there to help. And bully his Baronship for you. Just have the bottle waiting for me so I can splash it!" He cackled. "Oh, this gives me so many lovely ideas for all the ickle firsties."

Then, with a pop, he was gone.

For a moment they were all silent.

"That would be keen to have blood splashed all through me," Jamie mused.

"Ron, do you think he was telling the truth?" Percy asked dimly.

Ron shook his head, then nodded. "I have no idea... but... why wouldn't he be?"

"He's been at the school forever. I guess he could be. All the other ghosts hate him. But then they probably don't know what he is. If he is the representative." Percy let out a scream. "An entire month! Maybe if we had asked him earlier!"

"So you believe him?"

Percy sighed. "I think I really do. It sounds so simple. Give the Baron the bottle, recreate his death... do you really think we'd have to do his death?"

Ron frowned. "Maybe he could just do our supposed murder of Jamie."

"Ooh!" Jamie cried. "That's sounds like even more fun!"

"I'm not sure about this, though," Percy said. "I mean..."

Ron grabbed his cloak. "Percy, no way. This could be it! Think about it! Separated for the rest of eternity! You want these ropes gone as much as I do, right?"

Percy blinked, then pushed Ron away. "Yes, I do. But still... it's mad. Peeves is encouraging this, Ron. Peeves!"

That was a good point. But somehow that didn't matter. This was their chance!

"What about the bottle?"

"Huh?"

"The bottle," Percy repeated. "The one filled with stage blood that has most likely fallen into whatever old stage blood decomposes into."

The bottle. Peeves wanted to throw blood at Jamie, then they could let the Baron have it. "What about it?"

"What's the Baron going to do with a bottle? He can't hold it. And for that matter, how are we even going to get it for Peeves? Did you think of that? He wants it ready for him, if we decided to do this, and I don't exactly count on him letting us ask him to get it himself! Jamie said it was buried."

"Under about three layers of stone," Jamie elaborated. "It's kind of hard to get to."

They couldn't get the bottle out. Ron felt something like a knife stab itself through him. They definitely couldn't get it out. "You have a point."

"See?" Percy threw his hands into the air. "It's a stupid plan. And even then someone would have to make the Bloody Baron come. And then someone has to get that stage blood."

Then, without warning, another idea flooded into Ron's mind. If his heart were still beating, it would have sped up. Even so, he felt like he had just walked into the barrier before the girls' dormitory. It was the craziest thing he had ever thought of, or somewhat up on that list. If... Ginny popped back into his thoughts. If he could dare himself to do it.

"We'll get help," he said flatly.

Jamie waved her hand wildly. "I'm helping!"

"Yes, Jamie, you are helping," Percy muttered. "Ron, what sort of help would—?" Horror filled his eyes. "What the hell are you suggesting?"

Ron just forced a smile.

* * *

Ginny was good at chess. That was a fact Harry was quickly learning. For the first little while of the game he had purposely played bad. Whatever would make her feel somewhat better. And it was fine when she began to conquer one after another of his whining chess pieces. And she became a little too good. 

Maybe it was just too late to fight back.

He watched Ginny across the board, her red hair falling over her eyes as she concentrated on her next move. She was kind of pretty, he thought. If only she wasn't feeling so awful lately. He still remembered that hug out in the corridor.

It was good for her to be talking, Hermione had said. Really good. Well, that was because she couldn't blame Harry for Percy's death.

Percy had been murdered. And he had helped. How could that have happened?

The common room was empty, one of those rare moments when everyone was somewhere else. Or maybe no one dared go near Ginny again. Supposedly she had cried all night. And all morning. And up till he had challenged her to a game of chess.

Whatever made her feel better.

Ginny almost laughed as she commanded her queen, and the tiny sword swung at one of Harry's pieces. "I just took your last knight!"

Why hadn't he seen that coming? He sighed and stared at the board, hoping a good move would announce itself for him.

Wizards' chess. What had brought him to suggest this game? It had always been Ron's.

Nothing was remotely a good move. Yes, he was going to be slaughtered by little Ginny.

"I'm waiting, Harry," Ginny said softly.

And what was he supposed to do? He regretted swearing his pieces to silence. No help.

"Move your rook to A5."

Harry looked at his rook, and the A5 square. Of course. If he did that and Ginny moved that pawn like he hoped she would... yes, he could actually plan something there. "Rook to—"He couldn't finish the instruction.

That voice.

His heart pounded. What was going on? No, he had to be mistaken.

He lifted his eyes. Ginny was across the board, staring past him. Her face was pale. She looked ready to faint; in fact, she was already trembling. But beneath her wide eyes was the beginning of a half-mad smile, twisting at her lips.

No.

Holding his breath, he turned around.

And screamed.

_(Promised cliffie!)_


	27. Hauntingness

_Here's the chapter with some alterations. Thanks to everyone for their advice and comments! This chapter once again is dedicated to Mr. Random for the 666th review (because I'm weird like that). _

_Oh, and I forgot this last tim: I did not come up with the chess scene at the end. That was the epiphany of my cousin Lady Kazaana._

* * *

It had taken Ron almost an entire day to get to this point, hours filled with Percy yelling and arguing with him about something that involved the universe collapsing on itself. Then, by the time anything had been agreed on, they had both realized that the second day was up and the bindings were back in place. And suddenly it was all Ron's fault. Not that he cared anymore. Even if a third day was now wasted, Because if everything went right, what would it matter? But even with all that aside and taken care of, Ron had just committed something that completely terrified him even as he did it. Idiocy, idiocy, idiocy. Maybe Percy was right.

Yet, somehow, there was something kind of nice about being screamed at.

It was all he could do to remain still, in the room, not flying back off to where Percy was. He was stuck there, trying as hard as he could not to laugh. Exactly why did he have this urge to burst into maniacal laughter? Was it all that great, being there with his baby sister about to go into shock and his best friend… screaming? Surprisingly, it was.

Mostly because Harry looked so darn funny.

His scream ended with a gasp as he slid from the chair, eyes still wide on Ron. Ginny had still managed to not pass out, and gazed at Ron in fascination.

She was growing up, Ron realized. What exactly had happened during that month? Well, he couldn't just stand there. Especially after they had already heard him. Helping Harry win a chess game. What an introduction. He had to give something better than that now. Anything remotely better. What were people supposed to say at times like this? "Hey, Ginny," he said. "Hey, Harry." Better? He could have smacked himself.

"Ron," Ginny whispered. It sounded like all her strength had been thrown into that single word.

Harry looked ready to scream again.

Ron rolled his eyes. This wasn't the welcome he had expected. Of course, he hadn't given much first. But it was such a ridiculously awkward situation… For a second whatever confidence he had failed. No… he needed that much. He forced a smile. "Harry, it's not like you haven't seen ghosts before."

"Ron," Ginny repeated, pushing her chair back and rising to her feet. "Oh my gosh, Ron. This isn't… is it…? Is it you? I'm dreaming. I mean, you were killed…"

He tried for a calmer smile. "Yes, I'm quite aware of that. Are you—" Oh, no. She was going to start crying.And sheerupted into tears.

Ron hated it when girls cried.

"I can't believe this, Ron," she wailed. "I didn't think… I missed you so much!"

"I missed you, too." She did realize he was dead, didn't she? "Ginny—"

"You're a ghost, aren't you?" The words were barely audible under her crying, though she kept wiping at her eyes. "This is crazy. But… you're a ghost. Because you are dead, I know that much. A ghost." The shook her head, as if amazed by the idea. "Am I dreaming? I dreamt about you the other night. It could be happening again."

"It isn't a dream." Heat stung at the back of eyes. He wasn't going to start crying too, was he? "And I really am a ghost." Incredible how at ease he was with saying that word.

Harry murmured something under his breath. He still sat on the floor, fingernails digging into the rug, face bloodless.

"It isn't a dream?" She sniffed. "Damn it, Ron, where were you?" She walked quickly up to him and shoved a fist through his chest. Then she stared up at him. "You're so cold. I mean, all the ghosts around here are, but…" Another sniff. "I don't know. I thought you might be different."

He gave a small laugh. At least she wasn't freaking out. "No. It turns out it's exactly the same." He swung his arm through hers. He couldn't give her a hug or anything but…

She gasped and almost jumped back.

Ron cringed.

"Wow." A smile actually crossed her face, even though the tears were coming faster than ever. "Ron… I… I still can't believe this. Do you have any idea what this is like? It's unbelievable. Have… do Mum and Dad know?"

Percy had brought that up. "… No."

A scream, nowhere near Harry's, escaped her. "You mean… I'm the first? But, but you have to! Ron, you have no idea what they've been like. What all of us have been like. They have to see you, Ron. To know you're okay… you are okay, aren't you? Does being dead hurt? It didn't hurt when—" She sighed. "Ron, you have no idea what this is doing to me. This is amazing, but…"

"It can't be real," Harry said, finally audible.

That did something to Ginny. Her eyes were still on Ron, still dumping out the tears and an aura of confusion. Then, while he watched in amazement, she walked over to Harry and smacked him. "Knock it off, Harry. It's Ron and it has to be real!"

Harry jerked back at her slap. He panted for breath, eyes still fixed in horror on Ron. Then, with one big intake of air, he said "Ron?" Finally.

Now Ron had to laugh, even though it felt completely wrong as he did so. "Who else do you think would give you decent chess advice?"

"You could have helped me, Ron," Ginny said softly, amazement still in her voice.

"It can't be real," Harry repeated. No smack from Ginny. "I can't believe this. Ron. You're not… you're not…"

The same thing Ginny had asked. You're not a ghost, are you? You're not a spirit, are you?

"You're not… haunting me?" Ron stared at Harry. "Why… why would I haunt you?" Though, essentially, that is what he had been doing for the past few weeks. Minus the time they were in the spirit world. Following everyone around the common room, the school. Shout at them while they slept.

"Ron." Harry sat up straighter, face taut. "This is a bloody nightmare. Because… Ron, I didn't keep Voldemort from…" His voice attempted the next word, but he couldn't sound it out.

"No!" Ginny exclaimed. "It's not Harry's fault."

"I know that!" Ron had never seen Harry so defensive. "I know that, Ginny." He sniffed, pushing a hand back through his black hair. "What… what is going on? Why are you here?" He yanked his hand away, almost knocking off his glasses. "Ron. I still don't think this is real."

"Harry, please," Ginny snapped. She turned to Ron, shaking.

Ron froze, almost to the point where he thought he just might tumble from his current hover. This hadn't been expected. Harry didn't look too happy to see him.

More terror seeped into Harry's face. "Are you… Ron?"

Maybe some forced humor would help. "Duh."

Harry almost smiled, but it wasn't enough. Instead it sent in a flood of that familiar Harry rage. "I thought… Ron, I watched you die! Do you have any idea what's that like? Do you know what nightmares you can have from that?! And I didn't…" He was about to pull the rug apart. ""And now I'm being forced to talk to someone I killed."

So suddenly it was Ron's fault. He felt his own temper break, and he darted closer to Harry. Why couldn't he smack him like Ginny? "Harry, don't be an idiot! Do you have any idea how sick I am of people saying that kind of thing? I didn't listen when you told me to leave."

Harry shook his head. "But—" Ron shook his head. Harry couldn't believe that sort of thing. He just couldn't. Ron had never even considered it. Even Percy was only being a git about the whole thing. Maybe it was time to go all scary haunting ghost on someone. "Listen," he said as loud as he dared. "It's no one's fault. Except mine and Voldemort's. And I don't care if you have nightmares about it. So just… shut up about the whole thing. Because that's not why I'm here." Wow. He didn't think he had ever screamed at Harry quite like that before.

The whole idea was a new concept for Harry, it looked. "It isn't?" He looked ready to have a heart attack.

"Can't I just say hello without everyone flipping out?" He could be offended by this, if he let himself be. "I almost thought you'd be happy to see me."

"But you're dead, Ron," said Ginny, sitting down next to Harry. "You're dead, you were murdered… dead people don't usually come back."

"I'm sorry I was so awful right there," Harry mumbled, the only voice what looked to be sudden exhaustion allowed. Even fakeness was evident. "This is just… Ron, I can't believe I'm talking to you again."

"I know," said Ron. He gave into the urge to join them on the floor, albeit it had to look a little strange floating two inches above the floorboards. He hadn't realized how much he had missed it. And now he was there, talking with Ginny and Harry. Never mind it had been chaos. "I can't believe it, either. It's kind of like before." Not really.

"Except that you're a ghost," Harry breathed. "Ron. You're a ghost. I wasn't supposed to see you again. Sirius… he didn't come back." Suddenly he laughed. "I really can't believe this."

Sirius Black. Now that was definitely something Harry had to know. "Harry—" At that moment, someone climbed through the portrait hole.

"Hermione!" Ginny said.

Without thinking, Ron turned around.

Hermione stood before the portrait hole. Staring at him, like everyone else had.  
She finally wasn't asleep.

"Ron," she said.

"Hermione." Ron quickly jumped up.

And then she ran at him, arms outstretched.

Ron closed his eyes, awaiting the impact and already imagining it. Hair, skin, brains, whatever else might rush through him. It was like a blast of fire, and over in an instant.

Hermione lay on the floor behind him, inches away from having toppled on Ginny and Harry. "Ow," she murmured.

Feeling faint, he turned back to face the others. "Hello, Hermione." For a moment she didn't move, even when Harry urged her to. She had to look at him, Ron thought. This was almost as bad as Harry.

Then, with a sharp breath, she sat up and continued the stare. "I'm not crazy, am I?" The question might have been rhetorical. Harry gave a dry chuckle. "Only if I am." She nodded, barely hearing. "I thought I was crazy before. In the library." She paused. She looked ready to start crying as well. "Was I crazy?"

Ron felt himself blush. She was actually taking this rather well. "Um, no."

It was the wrong thing to say.

"No?" She was up on her feet, Harry and Ginny scooting from her path. "So you think you can just show up then for hardly a second? Why didn't you talk to me then?"

Now all eyes were back on Ron. He had no answer.

"Is this a trick? Is it really you?" The rush of energy didn't last long. Looking weary, Hermione dropped back to the floor, crying harder than ever. "I'm thinking this is a dream. It would be impossible except for the fact that I know we have ghosts everywhere. And.." She looked ill. "And you're one. You're dead. Ron, you died, didn't you? So why are you here?"

"Why didn't you come back earlier?" Harry asked.

Why hadn't he? "Because…" The answer fell away. He had no idea, really. It hadn't just been Percy. Percy was a git and there had been no reason for Ron to actually listen to him. "Because I just… couldn't?"

Hermione smiled through her tears, shaking her head. "What an answer, Ron. Do you have any idea how good it is to talk to you? How... how are you? What's it like?"

Of course that question would have to come up. "I don't even know where to begin."

She seemed to take that answer. For once she wasn't arguing with him. She looked great, he decided. All finished with class and her hair falling in her eyes. And she could see him, for once. She could actually see him. Something was very wrong with the whole situation, only Ron couldn't put his finger on it. It couldn't be wrong. Here he was, no one had fainted, Harry hadn't attempted suicide. And they were all talking. It almost seemed… normal. Maybe that was it. It wasn't supposed to be normal. Of course, he had to consider that Ginny, Hermione, and Harry were all in various stages of shock and disbelief and therefore probably numb to the insanity.

"My head hurts," Hermione murmured. "I must have bumped it when I fell. I… think I ran through you." Harry almost laughed.

"Yes, Hermione," Ron said. "You actually did."

Something about the answer didn't help. Her eyes pivoted to the ground before pulling back up on him. "I came in and I saw you," she managed. "I wasn't really thinking. I… don't think I remembered you were dead. I just wanted to give you a big hug or something."

That would have been nice. Ron felt the tears almost come again.

"So we can't touch you?" Ginny asked quietly.

"Well, you can go through me," he tried to joke.

Not the right answer.

"But you're here," Harry said. "I still can't believe it. And a ghost. We can see you and talk to you. Except that," he shook his head, unbelieving. "Ron, you're dead. We saw you. I even brought your body back."

"And dropped it."

Harry looked sick. "You were there?"

It was almost ridiculous. "Harry, I had just been murdered."

Harry flinched. Wrong thing to say again.

Ginny suddenly screamed, momentarily burying her face in her hands. "Ron!" She sounded ill. "I don't know if I can saw this. Something happened. Percy was…" Fresh tears came. "Ron, Percy's dead, too."

Ron had hoped it wouldn't have come to that. What was he supposed to say, with Ginny crying over now that and so horrified at having to tell all about it? He sighed and tried to meet her eyes. "I know."

"You… you do?"

"Of course he would," Hermione mused. "If they were both dead… Oh, I can't use to this!"

Ginny didn't listen. "You know he's dead? Did you hear them say so? Dumbledore and Lupin told us and—"

"I knew before."

"He's a ghost?" Harry asked. "Like you?"

Something almost hopeful crossed over Ginny's face. "Is he a ghost, too? When… when did you know?"

Ron thought back to that first awful night, returning to the Burrow. "I saw him right after I died."

Ginny was now on her feet. "You really saw him? And talked to him? Do you know where he is? When did you last talk?"

He sighed again. One of the reasons he was here. "I see him quite a lot, believe it or not." He held up his right hand, where the rope still dangled. "It's a very long story. I need… we need a favor."

* * *

"Are you quite sure you need the Bloody Baron for this?" Percy asked himself aloud. Silly, really. He had always been annoyed by people who spoke to themselves. Thank goodness no on was around to hear him. Still, he kept expecting Cornelia to burst out of the walls as a ball of flame and ask him what he was doing.

He couldn't believe he was still hanging around this school. He hadn't come much since his death, not until that fateful night when Ron both died and managed to get them bound together.

And now they were wasting their third day in a year. Second night in a row. Well, if this piece of insanity went as planned, that wouldn't be something they would have to worry about any longer. Freedom from Ron. Freedom he was supposed to get the day before, and never received because Ron had to follow him anyway. But that hadn't been so bad, had it? He really didn't mind having him around, if he wasn't being so… Ron.

Percy shook the thought away. He needed to concentrate on finding the Bloody Baron. He had already nearly circled the entire castle, asking every ghost he came across if they had seen the Slytherin ghost. Strange that most people weren't too keen on answering such a question, but oh well. He wasn't an expert on the Bloody Baron's whereabouts, either, and didn't plan on becoming one.

Where was Ron, anyway? Wherever Ginny and Hermione and… Harry were. Whomever Ron wanted to get that stupid bottle out. How humiliating. Is that what he and Ron had been reduced to? Haunting the living until the living were willing to do something so silly and trivial?

Whatever worked. Ron did have some good ideas. He had always been pretty smart. He just never applied himself. As if any of that mattered in the afterlife. So Ron could chat with his living friends. And Ginny. For a moment he wondered what that would be like.

Then, right before him, blue flames spilled from the wall.

Of course Percy had to think of that earlier. Cornelia.

A pair of eyes appeared in the fire. "Percy!" He continued past her. "Hello, Cornelia." He was in no mood to speak.

"Lovely trick you played," she said, following him. "We all believed you, too."

"Hmm." "I… I didn't mean to get so worked up. But we get bored, you know, being dead. And none of us ever really bothers to try to go to the spirit world. Not like you."

He sighed. "Look, Cornelia, this is very fascinating, and I apologize for tricking you and your friends, but... I'm busy right now."

"Bloody Baron," she said.

He stopped. Already the flames were dying away from her. "What?"

"Word gets around. You can't find him, can you?"

She was making fun of him. He bit his lip, wishing he could somehow make blood flow. "Well, I haven't looked everywhere yet."

"I know where he is!" Cornelia rubbed some ashes from her eyes and smiled. "He's… waiting for you, actually."

"Waiting?" Now what had they done? It was probably Ron's fault, whatever it was.

"In the potions dungeon. Some girl named Jamie told us everything. So…" Her smile increased. "Jillie and Dream and I went to the Bloody Baron…"

"I thought you were afraid of him." The smile vanished as she shuddered. "I am. We all are. But… it turns out he has a soft spot. Apparently the Slytherin girls are spoiled.We just pleaded with him and told him it was part of a prank against the Fat Friar from Hufflepuff. So… he is down there."

Unbelievable. Percy felt sick. "You… told him it was a prank?"

She shrugged. "It got his attention."

He moaned and shook his head. "He'll kill me. Or try to."

"Then don't go there until you're ready to do your… thing." The smile returned. "I think I might watch. Just not too closely."

She was right. All he had to do was avoid the Bloody Baron until the darn play. She had completely stolen his responsibility in the whole plot. Without thinking, he threw his arms around her in a tight hug. "Thanks, Cornelia." Then he realized what he was doing. He hadn't actually hugged a girl since Penelope.

Cornelia looked a little dazed. "You're… welcome."

He stared at her. "I… I think I should go." Without waiting for a reply, he Vaporated to just outside the dungeon. Good thing Ron hadn't seen that. He would have never heard the end of it. Percy still remembered all the Penelope torments.

Penelope. He wished he could apologize for that moment in the hospital. Explain everything.

He had been around Ron too much.

Maybe Ron and whomever he had picked up were already inside. Maybe they were waiting for him. Maybe Peeves was already there.

If he just looked in carefully, the Bloody Baron wouldn't see him, would he? Not if it was a quick peek. And if it were just the Baron, Percy could pretend he never looked in.  
No. That would just be asking for trouble.

Though it would be asking for trouble to make the Baron wait. People like that, people in power, didn't like having to wait.

Clenching his fists, Percy stuck his head through the wall.

The Bloody Baron was perched over Professor Snape's empty desk, staring right at him, all ragged robes and blood and those… lack of eyes.

"We meet again so soon, Mr. Weasley?" he hissed.

* * *

**SHOUT OUTS!******

_ArcherofDarkness:_ Mm.. piranhas! Yes, Percy did get eaten by them. Author Gal: Thanks so much! And thanks for agreeing about Ramen. I want JK to redeem Percy so badly…. Captain Canija: Yeah..it kind of sucks if your dead friend makes fun of you.

_Crystal Lightning:_ Lol! Thanks!

_db:_ I'm evil because I get to be executioner after my roomie takes over the government.

_Dr. Huff-Puff:_ Yup. Peeves. Surprising, huh? I had always wondered why JK had him around, so I decided to put him to some use. duj: Well, Percy wasn't there, but that was a good question to ask!

_emikae:_ And then the mutant mouse attacked Harry! Lol. I like your way, with the mouse. I've always thought Ron was super dense in the books.

_Erisinia:_ Yup. Finally visible Ronnikins.

_HiddenFlame42:_ Good point about that… but I sort of figured Harry would be oblivious enough not to be worried about anything. Just highly confused.

_HP #1Fan:_ But if you died… you could join them!

_hydraspit:_ Thanks! Actually.. the story is winding down. Sorry! I'm just as sad, because I"ve had so much fun with it.

_Krenya:_ I'm sure Peeves can be serious. When he wants. Which seems to be very rare.

_Lady Kazaana:_ I didn't credit you!

_Lady Meriadoc:_ Thanks! I adore Peeves, I had to give him a role.

_liseli:_ Well, soylant green is also people.. it was people first. liz: Thanks! Sorry it had to be a cliffie for you, but it's how I am.

_LJ Fan:_ Thanks!

_meenyrocks (not moonyrocks):_ Sorry about the spelling error! Silly me. Thanks, though! Actually, I'm twenty… but it's just past being a teen, right?

_Midnight Dove:_ Actually… your teacher called me and asked me to specifically mention Lady Jane Grey, just to get at you. mirficus: I just had to give Peeves something out-of-character. I just figure he has no responsibilities.  
movielvr: Ironic of me, no?

_Mr. Random:_ But I like cliffies!

_Neoma:_ Thanks!

_pele1:_ Thanks! Your review just made my day. Sure, I suppose it's possible for Nick to tell Dumbledore, but I've always kind of imagined the ghosts just doing their own thing.

_Phillipa of the Phoenix:_ Sorry for ruining Ramen for you. Actually.. my cousin is the one that suggested the chess match. I just thought it would be so appropriate.

_Pline:_ I live for cliffies. Sorry.

_Poemzie:_ Well, Ginny and Harry technically know that ghosts can and do appear, but before it had always been impersonal. And Ron had been dead a month, and he hadn't appeared yet. They will get over the shock, but they never truly expected Ron to appear. Good point to bring up!

_Queen of Useless Info:_ Lol! You know, I actually had my roomies play a game of chess JUST so I could put in a correct, possible move.

_Quixotic-Feline:_ Thanks so much! I'm glad you liked the Penelope mention. I think JK should do more with her.

_rosepetal13:_ Mmm, muffin. Thanks. Well, too much won't go wrong with the plan… or will it?

_Satine-cm:_ Actually… my cousin suggested the chess thing. Glad you like it!  
severus's bane: Shocking, ain't it?

_starsmiles:_ Actually, there is no purpose whatsoever to the Ramen is People. It's a big joke at my apartment. I just had to include it.

_Tabitha78:_ Don't worry; I promise you now there will be family/loved one closure. I couldn't bare not to do that.

_Talie:_ Yeah. Ron's been taking his own sweet time.

_Tru Lys:_ Yup! You were right! You get a trophy!

_v-babe24_: Bwahahaha!


	28. The Play

_Yay! Finally a moment to upload this! I hope you all had a happy Thanksgiving, those of you that celebrated it this past week._

_By the way, thanks for all the critiques for the last chapter. I actually have made a few changes, so if you'd also like to reread it, the chapter has been replaced._

* * *

The only reason Harry could figure he was heading down to the dreaded potions dungeon, going placidly along with everything, is that deep down he really did expect himself to wake up at any moment. Which was perfectly logical. Why wouldn't he be dreaming? It wasn't like he hadn't had similar dreams about this before. When Sirius had died, such dreams had occured, dreams where Sirius had come back to talk to him, be real. So now he was having a dream where Ron was back, albeit as a ghost, and wanting to talk, and not mad about Harry killing him, or trying to ruin the destruction of Voldemort with one more horrible thing to think about. And it was wonderful, one great dream among a dozen nightmares, so why shouldn't he try and enjoy what he could of it?

Except it wasn't a dream. He, Harry Potter, had been through enough crap in his life to know when he was faced with reality, not a dream or insanity. But if he could make himself cling to that possibility, just partially, everything would be all right. For even then it was too much to really think about. Ron dead. That was a fact, the truth, something he had been dealing with for the past month. Ron was gone and Harry would never see his best friend again. Terrible, but he was beginning to move on. It was something he had come to terms with. Ron wasn't supposed to just randomly show up again one day.

And yet here he was. A madness that Harry still couldn't quite comprehend. Ron, back. It was a miracle.

One that Harry didn't deserve.

He was being stupid, he knew. It was essentially the same issue. It hadn't been his fault; he knew that in the logical portion of his brain. It had been Voldemort's doing, a measley spell shot back to a distraction that wasn't Harry. But maybe if he had killed Voldemort sooner... and ignore the irony that it had been Ron's death contributing to the rage that had finally done the Dark Lord in.

Several times Harry almost turned around and returned to the Gryffindor tower. Several times he was ready to run off everywhere and scream until he woke up. It couldn't be fair. The worse part was that he was happy. The worst part was that he was enjoying all of this. After all, the whole horrible incident had been his fault.

Except Ron said it hadn't been.

Harry gasped for air, trying not to run into a wall as he glanced ahead at Ron. For some reason or another, Ron didn't really want anyone else to see him, but Hermione and Ginny had nearly gone into seizures when Ron had suggested he just make himself invisible. So now Ginny had the lead, checking every hallway for students and teachers and Filch. It would have been awkward for someone to see Ron. If that really were him. Even now Harry could scarcely believe it. His mind was still a blur, probably explaining why Harry and the girls were just going along with all of this. But with each passing second it became more real. Why couldn't it be Ron? Why couldn't he back? Why couldn't he be haunting them as a ghost? Why couldn't Harry just believe him? It was still the most exciting thing in weeks.

Ron returned the glance with an accompanying grin. "Maybe I should just pop out and scare someone," he said. Harry could tell when Ron was forcing something, but now that didn't really matter. "Especially if it is Filch."

Despite himself Harry laughed. Part of his mind was furious. This was serious, he wasn't supposed to be enjoying talking to Ron again. "I think you might finally give him the heart attack he's been waiting for."

"I know." Silence. "So... you're not freaked out by this?"

What a question. "A little." Harry could feel his face reddening. "I mean, you're... you're dead, Ron. I know we've already discussed this a hundred times, but it's amazing. It's almost like nothing ever happened, and that's the weird part, because something did." Great, now he was rambling and sounding corny. "And I feel like you're using us."

Ron snickered. "I guess... I guess I am using you. Sorry about that."

"We don't mind at all," Ginny said, butting in.

Ginny seemed the most comfortable by far.

Harry almost shuddered. This was way too natural, but... maybe it was okay to sort of enjoy it. "She's right, Ron. We don't mind. We're okay with it. Which is the wierd part." He shook his head, not bothering to fight the smile even though he still knew how wrong it was.

* * *

Talking. They were just talking. Typical Ron-and-Harry conversations that would always manage to exclude her. Hermione looked back at them, thankful that she was already crying and more tears would do nothing to embarrass her. She didn't mind being left out; they had always managed to have the most pointless conversation any two people of the male gender could come up with. And why shouldn't they be allowed to talk? She suddenly wished she had a camera. Harry and Ron, together again.

It was all so incredible; she couldn't believe she herself was taking it so well. Clearly she had been hanging around Luna Lovegood far too long. Even during that moment in the library... well, she really had thought herself insane then, but looking back, why couldn't she alter her memory to feel something else? She had wanted to believe that time.

She had all but wished for this.

But it was silly to get her hopes up. Ron was dead. So what that he was currently haunting them? He was a ghost, and that alone was equal to his death in how it separated them. Yes, he was there, but he was still dead. What was supposed to happen with that? Ron would hang around with them for the rest of their lives, everyone pretending that everything was back to the way it was? No, she wasn't that stupid.

Yet she could barely make herself listen to that logic. Her heart was pounding so fast she was surprised she could manage to walk. In spite of everything wrong with the situation, Ron was there, right behind her, and she could talk to him. Pester him about everything that had happened to him. The entire situation with Percy.

Percy. Now that was unbelievable to her. Ron had given them the story; she was surprised Ron could stand to be around Percy so long. She almost laughed, and only this morning she had actually been sad about the news of Percy's death. And she still was, come to think of it. But somehow all the details she had gleaned from Ron helped.

How pathetic. She could talk to him about Percy, about other things, but she couldn't dare say what she had been wanting to say ever since the incident.

Not that it could possibly matter in any way. It was pointless. He had died and nothing would ever change that. Even if she did say it... how she felt about him... what the heck were they supposed to do?

* * *

Ron figured he had to get used to the looks Hermione kept throwing back at him. He couldn't really blame her; he had just shown up, dead. A ghost. How else was she supposed to feel? And it wasn't like Harry and Ginny weren't doing the same thing.

Maybe it was mean of him, to just run in here without warning, doing this to everyone. But none of them had suffered a mental breakdown yet. Still, it seemed so little. He hadn't talked to them in so long, and now he was making them go down to the potions dungeon just so they could get some stupid little bottle that might not even be there for him. So now they were his slaves? Well, that was sort of cool idea, but mean just the same. Shouldn't they be doing something else? It was a reunion. It should be more meaningful.

But what else were they supposed to do? He really did want this awful rope thing off. He couldn't stop to play when they were this close. In fact, the potions dungeon was just ahead.

* * *

"We meet again so soon, Mr. Weasley?"

Percy could have died again right there. Waltzing right into the classroom, planning to just flee the other way if things weren't the way he had planned. How horribly naive. Well, the wall was just right behind him. Would it be so hard to just... no, that would make things worse.

The Baron laughed, empty eye sockets boring into Percy. "I must say I'm not surprised. Those girls said something about a plot against the Hufflepuff Friar, but I did suspect that the truth would involve you and your brother. Though I'm afraid I don't see him." The black sockets thankfully lifted away to stare at the wall, though Percy could still feel the gaze. "I take it you're taking advantage of one of my mercy days."

Say something, Percy screamed at himself. Say something intelligent.

Another horrible laugh from the Slytherin ghost. "I can also guess that not only does the truth involve you and your currently missing brother, but apparently me besides. I do hate being dragged away from my own personal business, but..." His mouth broke into a diseased grin. "I'm very curious to exactly what the two of you are thinking."

He was supposed to get the Bloody Baron to the potions dungeon, Percy thought dimly. Except Cornelia had already taken care of that. "We... we actually wanted to do something for you." Yes, that was it. Suck up to him. Suck up to him like he was any other authority figure.

"Something for me?" He paused to consider that. "I'm flattered. You'd do something for me after all the torture I've given you. So I take it the other Mr. Weasley will be arriving soon?"

Hopefully.

"Bribary." The word was like a bludger.

"Excuse me?"

"Bribary," the Baron repeated. "That's what this is about. You're still trying to make me remove your bindings. And I will, and I have already explained to you the requirements. So if this has nothing to do with those requirements, I'm afraid that you are wasting your time." With a sudden rush the Baron was off Snape's desk and right in front of Percy. Grabbing the collar of his robe. If there were any rotting flesh to smell, Percy knew it would be strong. "Silly boy. I'm sorry to ruin your plans."

"But we have--"

"I don't think I need to listen. I still don't understand why you want to be separate from your brother, anyway. Really, it's beyond me. After all, you made the decision to remain in this world after you died." He released the cloak.

Percy gasped automatically for air he couldn't breathe. A stupid thing to do, really. But it was sickening, the sight of the Bloody Baron before him, touching him, saying things like that.

"I'm right, aren't I?" The Baron looked extremely pleased with himself. "I'm right on how pointless it is. I've heard things about you, Percy Ignatius Weasley. I've heard about the things you have done. How you walked out on your family two years ago. So when you died, when you had the chance to completely escape them for a few decades, you instead chose ghosthood."

The Baron wasn't making any sense. Percy summoned whatever bravery he could to just stand there, taking this. Did he really have to? "You don't know why I stayed?"

Another laugh. "Well, the choice to be a ghost is often subconscious. Unfinished business, usually, is the cliche term. Which few ghosts ever bother to deal with. They're always clinging to something. Even if you had another reason, why would you be haunting this school, where your sister and your brother before he died attended?"

It hadn't been his choice to stay here, not his conscious choice. Without even thinking he scowled and flipped from the Baron's reach. How dare someone like the Baron guess what was going on through his mind? It was all almost an accusation.

"I'm right, aren't I?"

"About what?" This wasn't anything he wanted to think about.

The Baron didn't bother to explain. "How amusing. Well, despite what I think, my deal remains as it was. Except I don't think you've yet managed very well."

"He managed very well!"

Percy spun around. Jamie McFly had taken over the Baron's spot above Snape's desk and was nonchalantly busy fixing her ponytail while still fixating an awful glare upon Percy.

What did he do to her? Oh, of course. Killed her.

The Baron immediately lost interest in Percy. "What is this? One little rumor gets out that I gave a few girls a favor and..."

"I don't need a favor from you," Jamie snapped. "Unless you want to destroy that..." She yanked her rubber-band from her hair and tossed it at Percy's head. "That murderer!"

For a moment all Percy could do was stare. Then he understood. Ron's idea of pretending to kill Jamie... why couldn't they have killed her prior?

"Murderer?" the Baron echoed. The confusion didn't last long, and gave way to a gleam of appreciation. "And exactly who are you?"

Jamie had actually managed to shed some tears. "You.. you referred to me in present tense! You don't understand how that feels, being but a helpless orphan who had just fallen off a cliff and have everyone speak of you as if you no longer existed in any form... it's wonderful."

So now she had fallen off a cliff. Well, it was as good a murder as any. "Wonderful when you fell into those rocks," Percy said with the most villainy he could give. "The way they peirced through your flesh..."

Jamie glanced down in an attempt to hide a grin that Percy hoped only he saw. "How dare you speak of me that way!"

"I still haven't the slightest idea who you are," the Baron said stiffly.

"No one does," she mourned. "My name is Jamie McFly... the last of the McFly wizards and witches, a family that dates all the way back to the time of the Founders of this school... and now I am unable to continue on their legacy because that... that creature and its brother lured me off a cliff!"

Percy gave a low whistle. She was exceptionally dramatic. Maybe he wouldn't need Ron after all.

The Baron turned his horrible face back to Percy. "You.. did that to her? The last of the McFlys?"

Percy hoped he could be a good liar. "Yes, sir."

"Do you even know who they are?"

"We found out they were responsible for your death." This actually might work. He could have the whole situation ended without Ron and his friends setting a foot inside the classroom.

"My ancestor Hadeus McFly did kill horribly a great leader," Jamie mused for the Baron's benefit.

"You... you killed the last of that man's line?" The Baron was stunned.

Percy wanted to faint. He was actually getting away with this. "It wasn't easy but... my brother and I just frightened her... off a cliff." He felt the Baron stare at him, dubious. Please believe this, please believe this.

"Well, then," the Baron said. "I... I actually didn't expect you to do this."

"So you will release us? You will be above the Grey Lady?"

That hit the Baron's pride. "Of course I will. I'm far more upstanding that her! So I will just--"

And then the desk was blasted from the floor, with Jamie jumping with a scream out of its path. The desk landed with a crash and a broken leg on the other side of the room. Peeves hovered where the desk had been, beaming with joy.

"I'm here!" he sang. "Peeves is here, ready to perform outrageous drama for the Baron of Slytherin in hopes he will take us seriously!"

Percy had forgotten about Peeves.

The Baron almost exploded himself. "What?! What drama? What of this girl?"

Peeves sent Jamie a scrutinous glance, then shrugged. "Her? Oh, she died back in the fifties in a very interesting case of a toaster and a rubber snake or something like that."

Percy wondered if it wasn't too late to fleet the room.

"Sorry," Jamie mouthed.

"I do not appreciate being lied to!" The Baron screamed. "For that, I might just increase their sentence!"

"You will do no such thing!"

For several chaotic moments Percy had no idea who had spoken, had sent the Baron all but cowering in the corner. It had been Peeves, baring down on the Baron like some sort of vulture and looking nothing like the obnoxious poltergeist so familiar to the school.

"Now," said Peeves in a significantly calmer voice. "What you are going to do, his Baronship, is watch a nice little play that has been arranged specifically for your entertainment. And then we will be discussing other events."

The Baron simply nodded.

Percy took a moment to be thankful that Peeves had never reacted that way all the times he had told the poltergeist off.

"Where's ickle Ronnikins?" Peeves continued. "I believe I just saw him and his friends outside..."

As if on a cue arranged by Peeves the door opened, and Ginny stepped in.

Percy froze, then remember she couldn't see him.

Ginny looked around with clear disappointment. About what, he wondered. She looked like she had been crying.... "It's just Peeves," she said to someone behind her.

Then came the distinctive sound of Ron swearing. He appeared, followed by Hermione and, of all people, Harry. So Ron had just rounded up the whole crew, hadn't he?

Percy flinched as Ron glared up at him. "She can't see you, Percy. None of them can."

Ginny gasped.

"She really wants to see you, Percy," Ron continued. "I already told her she could."

What a little git, Percy thought. He couldn't possibly show himself to Ginny. Not after so long... not when she probably hated him.

"Percy, this isn't funny!" Hermione had taken up the call, her voice quavering as she looked around.

Ginny was going to start crying again.

"He's right over there," Ron said. "He's just being an idiot."

Ginny looked right in his direction.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," Percy muttered. He concentrated on becoming visible.

He felt her eyes focus on his face, and heard her scream. And then she was right in front of him, tears running down her face like a facet. His only baby sister. And she could see him. He cringed, awaiting another scream and whatever else she wanted to lash upon him.

"Percy," she said softly. "Oh, Percy, I haven't seen you in forever and I didn't know where you were..."

"Hi, Ginny." It was the only thing he could to say.

"We... we just heard the other day. We heard what you did. It was... it was wonderful." She stomped her foot. "Percy, why didn't you just come home instead?"

He was struck by the brotherly urge to just throw his arms around her. But he couldn't do that. "I'm really sorry." It didn't sound like himself saying that.

"Do you have any idea what this is like?" she murmured. "Going through all of this?"

Did she have any idea what it was like watching it all? He had spent the past year watching her, at various times. But this was so different. "Ginny, I couldn't..." Couldn't do what? He stared past her at Ron for answers. All he was doing was grinning that stupid grin with Hermione and Harry... Percy bit his lip. Why did Harry have to come along? What was he supposed to say to Harry now?

And now Jamie was crying. It wasn't her family.

A groan sounded from the Bloody Baron's corner. "This is all marvelously touching but I really do have other things to be doing."

"The play!" Peeves said happily, diving to some floor stones where Snape's desk had been. "It will be a wonderful play. All we need are the props. Miss McFly, exactly where is the bottle supposedly kept?"

"Over here!" Jamie pointed to a group of stones not far from Peeves. "Let me think... oh, it's definitely this one, because this stain right here looks kind of like a bunny..."

"Thank-you!" Peeves shoved her out of the way and yanked, with impressive strength, at the stone. Within seconds it was out... and across the room and making a big hole in Snape's desk.

"Two more down," Jamie put in.

"Wasn't that supposed to be our job?" Harry asked.

Ron blushed. "Peeves wasn't supposed to show up early, Harry."

Harry laughed. "So you dragged us here for no reason?"

"You have guilt concerning me; I'm working with it."

Percy watched in fascination. It almost didn't matter that it had been Harry's fault Ron had died.

But, of course, it wasn't.

Harry noticed Percy staring at him, and stepped back in sudden horror. "Percy," he said tersely.

Percy opened his mouth to speak. It was difficult. "Harry."

But there wasn't time for anything else to be said. Peeves pulled the third stone and thrown it into the hunk of wood that had once been a desk. There would be hell to pay when Snape found out. Good thing Percy was no longer in charge of anybody.

"The bottle!" Peeves declared, pulling out a horrendously dust object that might have been a bottle. He made a face. "I... would rather not handle this." He tossed it at Hermione, who caught it.

And nearly dropped it. "I think it has passed its experiation date."

"Then I would want it back!" Peeves grabbed it away. "And now... the play!"

The play that contained lines that had not been given much consideration. The Baron would kill them for sure. But it was the only plan they had that hadn't been ruined by Peeves.

Jamie flung herself above the desk rubble. "Alas, I am the Bloody Baron, renowned actor of all England!"

Now it was Percy's line. He looked down at Ginny, who managed a smile. "I heard all about the play, Percy."

He sighed and joined Jamie. "And I have just concocted some stage blood to make tonight's performance--"

Hermione actually giggled.

"More flare," Jamie hissed.

Percy rolled his eyes. Be dramatic. "And I have just concocted a cauldron of the finest and most realistic of stageblood to accentuate what shall the peak performance of the Bloody Baron's career!"

Now Ron was laughing. "Little too much drama, Percy."

The Baron wasn't laughing. He looked fit to kill.

"And now!" screamed Peeves. "The scene with the stage blood."

Ron hopped up and pretended to run a spear through Jamie. And Peeves threw the blood. Actually, a rotting sludge the color of old zucchini seeped out... a drop of it, anyway.

Jamie shrieked dramatically and tumbled through the floor.

Ginny squealed and applauded. With more reserve, Hermione and Harry joined in.

"I can't believe I just watched that," Hermione said.

Percy grinned at Ron. "Wow. That was really horrible."

Ron nodded in agreement. "I'm afraid that you were the best one. I just hope it works."

"And now," Peeves said. "To the Baron we have.. the gift of an authentic stage prop!" He threw the bottle straight through the Baron's head. "And not just a stage prop. The actual bottle of stage blood used to kill you all those centuries ago."

"So will you release us now?" Ron asked.

The Baron sniffed. "That was terrible. Can none of you act? I preferred the lie about that girl falling off a cliff..."

"But she really was the very last of the McFlys," Percy said. "We... we would have killed her if we could."

Jamie, who had reappeared, just laughed.

"Probably not," Ron said. "But.. she is dead. There is no one to seek revenge upon."

The Baron's rage was increasing with every moment. "This was not the nature of our deal..."

Peeves was back on him. "I believe they have suffered enough, Baron. And I'm getting bored of the situation." A fiery demon seemed to have replaced him. "Perhaps I should turn my services to the Grey Lady. Or perhaps the Fat Friar."

"You wouldn't dare!"

Peeves only laughed. "You forget I have more power than you realize."

The room went silent as the Baron stared back at Peeves, who stuck his tongue out in return. And then the Baron sighed. "Fine."

* * *

**SHOUT OUTS!!**

Captain Canija: Oh, yeah... Thanks!

CharliesMommy: Thanks for the critique. Very helpful. And I did think they wouldn't be terrified of seeing a friend...not too much, anyway.

Crystal Lightning: I hope you liked the Percy and Ginny meeting....

Dr. Huff-Puff: The good thing is that Harry is not screaming like a maniac in the new chapter 27. But it was funny to make him do it. I'm glad you like Ginny. I figured she'd have questions.

duj: Thanks for your honesty. It's actually one of the things I considered for the new chapter 27 (if you want to read that) so thank-you so much for being helpful! You get a cookie!

emikae: Thanks!

Erisinia: Yup, I gave you visible Percy! Actually (and this will be more obvious later) Peeves was trying to make Ron go visible. Hence the bad excuse.

HiddenFlame42: Thanks for the critique! That has been fixed. I'm glad you liked Hermione's reaction.

HP #1 Fan: Thanks!

hydraspit: I loved your one shot!

I am Lord Voldemort: I love your new name! I'm glad you liked Hermione's reaction. I figured it would be both logical and emotional.

Krenya: Thanks! I figured they might have to take it well because, personally, I would be thrilled to have a dead friend come to see me. And they are used to ghosts anyway... and I also figured they would be so stunned that they wouldn't have any choice but to take it well.

Lady Kazaana: I have shaved off Furfoot's mohawk.

Lady Meriadoc: Thanks!

liseli: No!!! Not funoodles!

LJ Fan: Excuse me while I insert an evil laugh... you mentioned a kiss in your review... and I've been planning an idea for months. Glad you brought it up. Now I must insert an evil laugh again.

mirficus: Hmm... you know, maybe I should do something with Penelope....

Mooncheese: Thanks!

movielvr: Homework is evil!!

Mr. Random: Thanks! And I didn't give a cliffie this time, did I?

x Odd Egg x: Lol! Well, nice to finally meet you and thanks for reading!

Phillipa of the Phoenix: Yeah.. Percy was just really, really appreciative...

Pline: Will Hermione and Ron ever declare their mutual love? You'll have to see....

Poemzie the Phoenix: I also thought Hermione running through Ron was out-of-character, but not horribly much. She does get really emotional, and I figured that might come into play. And... I actually will be posting anothe HP fic soon that hopefully will be very funny... it involves Sirius.

Queen of Useless Info: Cool! I'm a rabid Percy/Penelope fan, too! But.. she is sort of alive...

Quixotic-Feline: Glad you like Cornelia. My cousin designed her and decided the flames.

Satine-cm: Lol, yeah, I know what you mean. )

Tabitha78: Well, I was a little uncomfortable with how Harry reacted... even though it is still pretty much the same. But thanks!

Tru Lys: Yeah, well, Ron is an idiot sometimes. )


	29. Separated

"Fine."

The words were utterly bitter, as if the Bloody Baron had been all but bullied into giving in—which, now that Ron thought about it, he was. But it was a positive declaration none the less, one more bright bit of chaos to throw in with the whole Harry, Hermione, and Ginny thing. It had worked. The stupid, bloody plan had worked.

"Yes!" Ron screamed, drawing one more look of horror from Harry. Not that it mattered; nothing mattered except for the fact that the Baron was finally going to take off the awful ropes. And… he tried to pull his living friends to the front of his mind… they were here to witness it. "Yes!"

"My work here is done!" Jamie curtsied. "Now off to my graveyard haunting!" Jamie vanished.

Peeves cackled and performed a series of side flips in the air. "Don't worry, your Bloodiness. No one shall hear of this."

The Baron grumbled something under his breath and shrugged. "So our deal is still on?"

Peeves went stiff and offered a salute. "Yes. You are still the only ghost in this entire damn school that I fear." A grin of nothing but mischief accompanied his final word.

The Baron just sighed.

Ron looked at Percy. His brother looked ready to faint, but a dazed smile had enveloped him.

"Are you serious?" Percy asked. "You're going to take off the bindings?"

It was clear that the Baron did not want to remain in the classroom any longer. "Of course I will. Apparently I have no other choice." A glare at Peeves.

Ron couldn't help another "Yes!"

"Congratulations, I guess," Harry said weakly. He looked more ready to faint than Percy. "Though I still don't think I understand what's going on. But, yeah, congratulations. Both of you."

Hermione nodded in baffled agreement. "Even though you really didn't need us."

Something inside Ron flinched. He turned to Hermione, suddenly realizing how he must look, this strange, horrible ghost… thing. "You… you were moral support!"

Ginny actually laughed, and Hermione gave a small smile, shaking her head. "Moral support. Wow. What a role." She shuddered. "I can't believe I'm saying things like this. To you."

"So little Miss Granger did want to dig up rocks." Peeves launched himself at the remains of Snape's desk and began to make a small house out of the pieces. "I was bored, so I came early. Besides, it didn't look like he was going to talk to any of you in the near future."

"What?" Percy exclaimed.

"But… but you did come and see us," Ginny said enthusiastically. "Even if it was… to use us."

Using them. That is what it basically had been. Oh, well.

Percy laughed, locking eyes with Ron. Yes, Percy had said something about that earlier. "That's what I told Ron. But… it was really, really necessary."

So now Percy was challenging him. He hadn't ever done that before, not like this, not in front of everyone. And of course Percy was the more annoying. "Ginny, you have no idea how necessary this was."

She nodded, the remains of the laugh still on her face. "I think I need to sit down. Ow!" Peeves had thrown a piece of broken desk at her legs.

"I don't care if you used us," Harry said. "Ron…" He sighed, running his hand through his hair. "I hate to say this again, but… but this is so weird."

"You have no idea," Ron replied. Even to him it was beginning to seem like a dream. "I'm just afraid that's it's all going to be some horrible illusion."

"And you'll wake up and not be dead." Harry froze, staring at Ron. "I'm… I'm sorry."

Dead. Ron tried to smile. "Thanks for bringing that up."

Ginny picked up the piece of wood and broke it between her hands. "This is stupid. You're both dead, so there isn't much difference than before."

Percy sighed. "Ginny—"

She faced him, wood in both hands. "It's not going to be any different, is it? You can't possibly do anything with us, can you? So what was the point of you showing up if you didn't even need us for this?"

Ron felt a sudden urge to vanish. So… she wasn't happy to see them? He glanced at Percy… couldn't he take care of this? No, why would he expect Percy to do something like that?

But now all eyes were on Percy.

For a long time he didn't say anything. "This is one of the things I had been worried about. Ginny, I'm sorry. But…"

Ron shouldn't have expected an answer.

"… But how come you have to care now that I can't be there?!" It burst from seemingly nowhere, filling the silent room, leaving Percy panting instinctively for breath he didn't have.

Fury. Ron recognized that emotion.

Ginny's gaze lingered shakily for a one or two moments before her eyes filled with tears. With a cry of rage she threw open the door and ran from the room.

But she had just been feeling better… "Ginny!" Ron screamed.

The echoing footsteps became increasingly distant.

Ron turned to Percy, filling his own temper rising. "What did you do that for?"

The answer came quick. "I don't know." Percy sounded very weak.

"You are such…" Ron couldn't think of a word. "You just had to become some horrible haunting… ghost!" The best insult to come automatically. "Harry, do you see this?"

"Ron…"

Everyone really seemed to enjoy saying his name that night.

"Harry, I didn't mean to yell."

Harry gave a laugh and shook his head. "You yell plenty, Ron. I'm… I'm going to go after Ginny."

Great. Now Percy had scared Harry away.

"You'll still… you'll still be around in a few minutes, won't you?" Now Harry was pleading.

It was almost a stupid question. "Yes, I'll still be here. Or I'll come find you."

Harry actually shuddered at that. "Thanks." With one last look back at Ron, he left the room.

Peeves cleared his throat. "I'm going to go find some firecrackers for this desk." He disappeared through the floor.

Percy watched him vanish with mild interest. "Well, that mood was certainly killed."

"Killed," Ron heard himself echo. Without even thinking, he started laughing. It wasn't even funny, but that thought only sent him into hysterics. "You are such an idiot."

He almost smiled.

But Percy had been the one to.. .say that to Ginny. "It's your fault."

"Ron, I don't even know why I said that." He frowned and stared at the door. "Maybe I should go apologize."

That really wasn't something Ron wanted to witness, whatever further disaster Percy would drag in with an apology. "Well, I don't want to go—" He stopped. Duh. "We need to get the bindings removed."

Percy swore. "I forgot. And after all that fuss…" He looked around the room, and swore again.

The Bloody Baron was gone.

"You scared him away, too!" Ron smacked himself on the forehead.

"Unless…" Percy grabbed the rope at his wrist and tugged. Like paper it ripped away.

Ron did the same to his own. It was strange to watch it fall into the air, frayed ends wafting like snakes… away from his arm. But a wave of excitement crashed over him. He was free. For the first time since he had died, he could be away from Percy longer than a grace period. He was free. He couldn't resist one more triumphant "Yes!"

"Well, then," Percy said, stunned. "I guess… I guess this is it."

"And to think all we had to do was that pathetic play."

"Yeah."

The room drifted into awkward silence. There didn't really seem anything else to say.

"I still can't believe you said that to Ginny," Ron said.

Percy sniffed, looking down. "Maybe we should see if this works." He sprang back through the wall, disappearing.

Ron waited for the tug at his wrist, waited for Percy to drag him somewhere against his will. Nothing. Unless, of course, the git was hiding on the other side of the wall…

"Ron?"

Ron screamed; hadn't the room been emptied? He whirled around, half-expecting to see the Bloody Baron changing his mind.

It was Hermione. She hadn't left. Why had he thought she had? She had been so quiet, there in the corner with tears running down her cheeks.

He really hated watching girls cry.

"Hermione," he said softly. "I… I thought you had left."

"Sorry I wasn't more conversational." She tried to force a smile, and failed. "You really, really have no idea what this is like. Seeing you." Her hand flew to her eyes. "Oh, Ron, I couldn't believe it when Harry brought… you back and said what happened. Do you have any idea what everyone's been through, dealing with this? Do you know what it's like to see you back? I know we've all been saying this all afternoon but…"

"I missed you all, too." It was the only thing he could think to say, and sure didn't sound very impressive.

"I was thinking about… about what Ginny said. It's not like your back, is it? It's not the same. And I think that what hurts. Even though… even though that when I saw you today… like this… I don't know why I would have thought any differently." She lifted her head up, locking her pretty eyes with his. "I feel so silly. I don't know what you're going to think of this, Ron, and it's hardly an appropriate time, but there's something I've been regretting for a long time."

Tell her what you think of her, Ron screamed at himself. But all he could do was watch her. "Did you flunk a class because of me?"

She laughed. An actual laugh. "Maybe this would be more meaningful if I had. But… dang it, Ron, don't make me laugh!"

She was so threatening that he almost apologized.

She took a deep breath, savoring it for a moment. "Ron," I've known you for so long, and you're a great friend. I hope you know that. But… but there's something else. I've known this for a few years now, and I don't know why I never said anything earlier. But… oh, this sounds so stupid. Maybe I shouldn't say it." Now she was talking to herself. "No… as it anything is going to happen anyway." Her eyes were back on him. "Ron, I love you."

The words echoed through Ron's head. "What?"

She swore, extremely loud. "I knew I shouldn't have said it. I'm sorry. I'm just going to…" She tore her eyes away from him and marched toward the door.

She loved him? This was a dream. Now it had to be. After the way he had felt about her for so long… He threw himself in the door way, Hermione almost walking through him.

"Ron!"

This was a dream, this was a dream. There were no other possibilities. After all those years she had spent yelling at him, how could she say something so maddening? She couldn't be joking, could she? "Are you serious, Hermione?" It was so great to say her name. "Are you serious?"

She stared at him, gasping for breath. "… Yes, I'm serious. Please don't hate me for it."

He laughed. How could he possibly hate her? "I didn't think you felt that way. Or else…" Or else he would have said something years ago. Bloody hell. "What about when I asked you to the Yule Ball?"

"I… I had already told Viktor. And you were being such a jerk."

Well, he had been a jerk. "But I really wanted you to go with me."

"Me go with you? I—" She held her breath. "What are you saying?"

What was he saying? "I… I'm saying what you said."

"What did I say?" But she didn't seem to be expecting an answer. The tears were coming again. "Ron…"

This could have been romantic. If he were alive. He turned away, frowning. "This is completely pointless."

"You weren't supposed to die," she whispered. "Or I would have told you sooner." She stamped her foot. "I hate this. Ron, why did you have to die like that?"

"Like it was my fault." He turned back to her, hating himself. All he could see now was the horrible beam of light coming at him.

For a long time neither of them said anything.

"Ron?"

She was so beautiful. Even when crying. "What now?"

She stood straight, though she was trembling. "Can I ask you something? I've always wanted… Ron, will you kiss me?"

She had snapped. The shock of seeing him had done something to her mind. "I can't—"

"I know," she interrupted. "I became very aware of that when I ran you through you but… Ron, I really need this. Could you just… pretend?"

She really was mad. "Pretend?"

"It's the best I can think of." She approached him, waiting.

Pretend, she had said. Pretend.

He reached down, wishing he could somehow touch her. It was so strange… a wavering hover over her face. She was so pretty. How was this to work.

It was close enough. He could feel her warmth. For a long time he couldn't think.

"You're so cold," she finally murmured.

"I know." Another brilliant response.

She laughed, eyes glistening. "Thanks."


	30. Reunion

_I realize that I took quite a bit of time getting this chapter out, and I'm sorry. But I do have an excuse. I just finished the past two weeks of finals (which are evil) and had very little time to write. Then, when I had most of the chapter done, ready for tweaking and all that, my mom wanted me to attend a movie with her. (WARNING: do NOT see Spanglish.) Whilst we were at the show, my dad's friend put in a new operating system. By some spark of fate, everyone's things are now gone, including the first version of this chapter. Which forced me to take the time to write it all over again._

* * *

It wasn't how Ron expected his first kiss to be, despite all his secret hopes that it would be with Hermione. But that part of his existence–real kissing–was through. He didn't know if it even counted as a real kiss, for they hadn't exactly touched. But it worked. Somehow, it worked.

She gave a small laugh and brushed at the rest of her tears. "I can't believe I just did that," she said. "Oh, Ron, you must think I am so stupid. But I missed you so much...." Another laugh, and she shook her head. "I'm thinking just like Luna. In fact, I'm worse than her."

"How did she come in the conversation?" Ron scanned the room, half-wondering if someone else might be hiding in a corner.

"I just kissed..." She put her fingers to her lips. "I just kissed you, Ron. Sort of. And... well, you're... dead."

"But I never dreamed about kissing Luna."

She laughed again, something harder and more real. "Well, thanks for that comfort, Ron. But... I don't know. Thanks for doing that."

He should be the one thanking her. "I think we're both crazy."

"Yes, we are." She leaned against the wall, drawing a deep breath. "Would you hate me if I said I still think this is nothing more than a really bizarre dream?"

Ron tried to also fall against the wall. It didn't work. "None of you are really going to accept this."

She hesitated a moment, then turned to him. Her eyes were red from crying. "I don't think you have any idea what this is like for us. Any idea. I know we've been going over this repeatedly, but... Ron, it's just so fascinating and wonderful. You're back."

Of course he was back. He had only been secretly watching all of them for several weeks. Yes, he was back, but he was also still completely and utterly dead. Just when he dared to actually speak to everyone, the full meaning of that had to come roaring back. "But about what Ginny said–"

"I know." Hermione's words were far too loud. "Ron, that's something else we discussed, if you were paying attention. I'm perfectly aware that you're... oh, dang, and I can't even say it." Her hand flew to her forehead. "But I could care less, Ron. This is something people dream about. You know, I really did hope you would come back and haunt us. Not seriously, I mean. Because I didn't think you would. But you are.." She blushed. "I'm rambling again. It's just so wonderful to see you, Ron. I'm saying you're name a lot, aren't I?"

It was good to hear her say it. "I don't mind." What was he responding to? Her statement about his death or his name?

"Ron," she repeated, and smiled. "I missed you so much."

"Hermione." It was nice to say her name, too.

For a long time the room was dead silent. Hermione seemed lost in her own thoughts.

And then she spoke.

"Our Quidditch team really sucks without you."

"Quidditch?" What was she bringing that up for? He stared at her, amazed, and then laughter burst from him. "Why are you talking about Quidditch?"

"I don't know." She joined in laughing, much harder than him, her face turning red. "I don't know. But I mean it. You really were a good Keeper. And the team is terrible without you."

That was probably true. "But why are you bringing it up?"

She shook her head, gasping for breath. "I have no idea. It just popped into my head. I don't even know why it's so funny."

"You don't even care about Quidditch."

"I know. I don't and I never will." For a moment all she could do was laugh. "I can't even try to understand it. Ron, I think I am crazy."

"Yes, you definitely are."

That just sent her into hysterics.

It was probably one of the more entertaining things Ron had ever seen. Hermione laughing her head off over Quidditch. "Are you okay?"

She could only nod and wave her hand at him.

He really hoped no one would walk in. The sights of Hermione Granger in hysterical giggles and the piled remains of Snape's desk could not be a pleasant combination. Then he realized that he was also laughing. How long had that been going on? The two of them in the potions dungeon laughing over as something as trivial as the Quidditch team. Even when there was nothing funny about it.

Then the door opened, almost hitting Hermione, which only made her situation worse. Harry entered, Ginny right behind him. Harry's eyes fell on Ron, and a moment of horrified confusion rushed over his face before a smile broke through.

"You really didn't leave, did you."

Ron coughed back the rest of his laugh. Perhaps he should have left. Or at least went invisible. Just to see what Harry would have done. "I thought about it."

Harry shrugged, looking very relieved. "I... was worried you would. And then this all would really have been a dream or something. And it wouldn't have been funny at all. So don't laugh." He paused. "That isn't what you were laughing about, was it?" He glanced at Hermione.

Ron shook his head.

"Then what was so funny?"

"To be perfectly honest, Harry, I have no idea. Hermione started it."

Ginny forced a tiny giggle. "I don't even want to know." Her eyes were still red and rimmed with tears, but she looked much better than before.

She wasn't mad at him, was she? Ron suddenly wondered. But it was hard to keep such thoughts with Hermione trying to recover from her giggle attack.

Harry took a deep breath, clearly trying hard not to laugh himself. "This is so weird. You're... dead, and we're actually having fun. I think. It's way too normal."

"I know," Hermione managed, forcing herself to sit up. "But... it's nice. Better than anything else that's been going on. But weird. And weird and normal should not be the same thing."

Harry finally gave way to a laugh. "I didn't think I could ever feel this way." He gave a quick look at Ginny. "Where's... Percy?"

Percy? Ron instinctively glanced over his shoulder before he noticed his now-bare wrist. During the moment with Hermione he had forgotten about Percy, but now... he still wasn't used to him not being somewhere around.

"He left," Hermione said. "The Baron separated them." She looked ready to find humor in that as well.

"He left?" Ginny echoed. She sighed, her arms dropping to her side. "I... do you know where he is?"

Ron shrugged. "He just left."

"Oh." Her eyes lingered at the floor, somehow unwilling to look at Ron; he could feel that much. "I... I wanted to talk to him. And you." Her gaze whipped away from the floor. "Ron, I'm really sorry about what I said."

"Even though it's true." He didn't realize he had said that aloud until Ginny stared at him. He cringed; he hated that look coming from her.

"Of course it's true," Hermione said, now much more solemn. "Ron... this feels so strange talking about your... death when you're right here." She shook her head, an ironic smile at her lips.

Once again the mood had been killed.

"At least you came back to haunt us," Harry said, seemingly amazed at his own words. "How–how long are you going to be doing that, Ron?" He stared at him, with no much more concern than as if he were asking about the homework they had both ignored.

"How long?" Ron hadn't really thought about that. He had died, been chained to Percy, and had just happened to hang around the school. What was he supposed to do after her? But he couldn't stay forever. He suddenly realized that. It wouldn't work. "I... I don't know."

Harry's eyes dropped momentarily to the ground. "It won't work, will it? Ginny is right."

"But I really am glad to see you," Ginny said quickly. "And Percy. Which is why I wanted to talk to him." She sighed, thinking. "Ron, I think you should go see Mum and Dad and everyone."

Not this again. "I... why?"

"I think it would be really good for them." She was pleading now, her brown eyes on him. "Ron, do you have any idea how much they miss you? Even if you do disappear again right after... at least they could talk to you one more time. They'd like that."

Talk to his parents and brothers again. Have them actually see him. Hadn't it been what he had wanted to do ever since he had been killed? If Percy hadn't ever said anything?

"And make Percy go."

"Percy?" He blinked. "Ginny, he wouldn't– you know how he feels."

She nodded, more tears coming. "But we know what he did. Please, drag him along. Make him go."

Percy would never agree to that. It had taken so much pressure just to make Percy become visible for Ginny.

"Ron, please," she begged.

Harry sniffed. "I don't think Percy would listen."

Ginny stepped on his foot.

He sighed. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

"He's not so bad," Ron heard himself say. Grudgingly.

"Then you'll do it?" Ginny asked, eyes gleaming. "I'm sure you could make him do it. Haunt him or something."

"Haunt another ghost." Smiling, Harry shook his head.

"You can force him."

Ginny had always been good with talking.

Ron sighed. He had no idea how this would be possible. But even if it were just him... He could feel his entire body tingle just as if he had been dragged through the girls' dorm barrier. If he could just talk to Mum and Dad... "Fine. When... when do you want me to get him?"

Ginny smiled. "Now."

* * *

The search, amazingly enough, wasn't hard. Percy was waiting outside the dungeon door, a frown etched into his face and his arms crossed over his chest. Apparently he was invisible, or Harry and Ginny wouldn't have asked where he was. Ron almost didn't see him.

"Done chatting yet?" Percy asked.

Again Ron stared at his wrist, void of that stupid dangling rope. "Were you–?"

Percy shook his head. "Don't worry, the bindings really are off. I went clear to the far side of the Quidditch field before I came back. And I assume you were fine."

Quidditch. Ron almost laughed. "So, why were you hanging out here?"

He shrugged. "Why were you talking to Hermione so long?"

"How did you know I was talking to Hermione?"

"She was hiding in the corner when I left. So what happened?"

Did Percy really want to know?

"You are so weird."

Ron realized he must have been blushing.

" I noticed Ginny and Harry come back."

Ginny. Ron had almost forgotten she had given him a mission. "She... she wants to apologize for what she said."

Percy didn't so much as blink. "I heard."

Silence. "Oh." The walls couldn't be that thick.

"I'm... sorry about what I said to her." Percy fingered the edge of his robe.

Ron glanced back at the dungeon door. "She's still in there. Go apologize to her yourself."

Percy shook his head. "Not right now."

To deny Ginny that much? "Why not?"

For a long time, Percy stared hard at Ron. It was all Ron could do to stare back. Then Percy sighed. "Forget it."

Perhaps it wasn't the best time to bring up Ginny's request, but somehow it slipped out. "She thinks we should go see Mum and Dad."

"Then go see them. We're not bound together anymore."

"She wants us both–"

"I heard that, too." Percy's voice was much too loud for the little hall. Then he burst away from the wall, straight down the corridor.

Ron flew after him. "You talked to Ginny!"

Percy didn't turn around. "Ron, I can't. We've been over this a hundred times. They now know I'm dead, they know what happened, why can't we leave it at that?"

This was going to be impossible. "Percy–"

"Like I said, you know why they can't see me. It's best this way." He plummeted through the floor.

Ron dove after him. It was still odd to go through floors, ending up from one dungeon to one even lower–some other classroom Ron had never seen.

"Why are you following me?" Percy said icily, barely glancing at Ron.

"Why were you waiting for me?"

"That is none of your business."

Ron bit his lip. How could he have told Harry that Percy wasn't "so bad"? "Ginny saw you. How horrible was that? It only went bad when you made it. So why can't you talk to Mum and Dad and the twins...?"

"You know what I did. And I know what I did, probably more than anyone. Do you what it's like, Ron? Do you have any idea what it's like to suddenly realize what a horrible mistake you have made and how impossible it is to go back?"

"So you prefer to make it worse?" Ron hoped that would hurt.

Percy visible cringed. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Apparently it didn't hurt enough. "So you don't care about any of us as much as you do about that little stunt you pulled?"

There was no response. It was infuriating. Ron could feel the anger welling up inside of him. He had been over how Percy had left... and now it was suddenly all coming back. "If that's how you feel, then why do keep hanging around here? Why did you haunt everyone?"

Percy froze, his back to Ron.

Even the air was cold, as far as Ron could tell. "Why did you stay here? Why didn't you go haunt the Ministry or some other place or even go to the spirit world? Why did you choose not to go to the spirit world?"

Slowly, Percy turned around. "I don't know."

That wasn't the answer Ron had expected. "You have no idea why?"

Percy shook his head. He wasn't looking at Ron. "It was subconscious, like you. I died and here I was." He closed his eyes, sighing. "The Baron," he muttered.

"The Baron? The Bloody Baron is your reason for staying here?"

Percy almost looked as if he would laugh. "No... but the Bloody Baron said something before you showed up. He said... oh, never mind."

The fury began to slide back to wherever it had come from. "But why did you choose to stay around here? The school and the house?"

"I was mostly at the house before." He drifted down to the level of one of the desks. "I didn't know where else to go. Ron, I can't face them. Not after what I've done."

"But they know what you did for the Order." Great, now he was comforting Percy.

Percy sniffed and stared at the ground. "Yeah, I can pass information to the Order but not say a word to them. They hate me. You and everyone heard the fight I had with Dad."

"That was pretty bad." Ron smiled. It was almost funny.

"So I can't just wander back and expect to welcomed. Like it was their fault."

"Ginny doesn't hate you." Ron dropped down to one of the desks across from Percy's. Why were they having this conversation?

"Yet I sent her screaming from the room." He sighed.

"She apologized. Sort of."

Percy said nothing.

Ron stared at a scrap piece of parchment that had fallen on the floor. Doodles created a border. He tried to think of a spell that would set it aflame. "I don't hate you."

Silence. Why had he said that?

"Well, that's nice to know." Percy was now staring at the parchment as well. "So... when you had every chance to go visible while we were around them, why didn't you?"

He was right. "That's not a fair question."

"Really?"

"You told me I shouldn't."

This time Percy really did laugh. "Since when do you listen to me?"

With a sigh Ron left the desk. This was getting weird. And if Percy wasn't going to budge... "I needed someone to blame. I'm going to go home."

Percy's head jerked up. "To... see everyone?"

"To do what Ginny said. Which is basically that. So, yeah."

"It'll be a mess," Percy warned.

"No, it won't," Ron replied. He could visualize the kitchen in his mind, how it had always been. Hopefully they'd all be there, somewhere in the house.

"Yay!" someone exclaimed.

Ron's concentration broke, zapping him back fully to the classroom. Cornelia, Dream, and Jillie had just burst into the room, throwing spectral confetti everywhere that floated above the desks like bits of mist.

Percy stared at them in horror. "What are you doing here?"

"You were actually talking," Cornelia said with a grin. "We're so proud." Immediately afterwards she burst into blue flames.

Jillie nodded enthusiastically. "It was fun watching you."

Dream had a "I hate Gryffindors" look on her face, but she also smiled.

Ron hoped she wouldn't attack him.

"It's also a Ron celebration," she said, winking at Ron. "I saw you and Hermione. Don't worry; though my heart is broken, I will recover."

Percy's stare turned to Ron.

"And it's also a celebration where we could bug you," Jillie said. "We haven't had this much fun since that Malfoy guy drowned Dream in the lake."

Dream's smile disappeared.

Ron forced a laugh. It was actually nice of them to do this. Also incredibly weird. "Thanks, I guess."

"We really do appreciate it," Percy said.

"You're welcome!" Jillie squealed.

Perhaps it was the best time to leave now. Shaking his head, Ron once again focused on the kitchen at the Burrow.

And then he was there, right above the table. The kitchen was empty.

For a moment he wanted to scream. They were making this so difficult. Why wasn't Ginny around being helpful when she needed him?

Maybe the girls knew their ways around the place... Ron wouldn't be surprised.

They weren't... somewhere else, were they?

"They're in the living room," a voice called out.

He almost did scream that time as he spun around. "Percy? You came?"

Percy shrugged, refusing to smile. "I couldn't be their by myself. With them. But I'm not..." His voice became more solemn. "I can't. But they're in the living room. I can hear voices."

They were so close. "I can't believe I'm doing this."

"Harder than it sounds, huh?"

Go invisible, Ron told himself. That would help, at first. No. If he did that, with the way he felt right now, it wouldn't work. Just do what he had done with Ginny and Harry.

Except he hadn't shook so much with them. Why was he shaking so much now? How was that possible without a body?

Percy gave a derisive laugh.

"Shut up," Ron said automatically. Then, trying not to think, he rushed through the wall into the living room.

They were all there. His parents, Fred and George, Bill, Charlie. Only Ginny was missing. For all Ron knew, she was back in Snape's dungeon. Maybe getting in trouble for the desk. But other than her, it was all of them. His family, just sitting around... talking, Fred and Bill playing a board game on the floor. Why did he always have to intrude on games?

He couldn't start crying.

They didn't notice him. Maybe he should say something. Like he had with Harry and Ginny. But his mum and dad... they seemed so upset about something.

Duh. They had just found out about Percy. Why wasn't Percy here? Right now they probably needed to see him more... He shook his head. Why was he thinking this way?

It was his mum that looked up first. From her chair, where she was writing something, she just happened to glance up.

He felt her eyes freeze on him. He tried to smile.

One by one, everyone else looked up. His dad fell from his chair.

"Ron," his mum whispered.

The name thing again. It still didn't matter. "It's me," he said softly. "I'm... here."

Fred's hand smashed through the board game pieces. "Is this a trick?"

"Yes, Fred. Someone would pull a trick this sickening."

His mum's eyes filled with tears. "No, they wouldn't. Oh, my baby."

Slowly, his eyes on Ron, his father climbed shakily to his feet. "Ron? Is this real?"

Charlie, too, was standing up. George could only stare. "But Lord Vold– he killed you."

"Don't bring that up," Bill hissed.

Then George began to laugh. But he was also crying. That wasn't something one would usually see George do. "You're haunting us." It wasn't an accusation. "You know, I was kind of...kind of hoping you would do this."

"We weren't supposed to...see you." A smile broke through on Bill's face.

This time Ron really could smile. "I... I really missed you."

"My son," his father said softly. "Ron?" He extended his hand.

Ron didn't even attempt to shake it. It wasn't fair. "I can't touch you."

"But you're here," his mum said. Now she was also on her feet, tears pouring from her eyes. "I can't believe I'm seeing this. I don't think I ever got to tell you that I love you. Oh, Ron."

Ron could feel the tears rushing down his face now. It was almost embarrassing. "It's okay, Mum. It's okay."

She smiled, the tears still coming.

"It is Ron," Fred said. "Wow, you really do want to haunt us." It wasn't even teasing coming from him.

And there wasn't even any screaming.

His dad quickly wiped the tears from his eyes. "This is unbelieavable," he murmured. "It's almost like... a repayment for..." His voice trailed off.

He was no longer staring at him, Ron realized. None of them were.

His mum gave another sob.

Slowly, Ron turned around.

It was Percy. And it looked like everyone else could see him.

* * *

**SHOUT OUTS!**

**ArcherofDarkness**: Hmm... I don't think the family knows the exact way Percy died... so I believe the twins would most appreciate that method.

**Crystal Lightning:** But she sort of got a kiss....

**db:** Thanks

**duj**: Dude.. You're good. That was a wonderful analysis! The way I'm thinking is that Percy isn't too proud to go back to his family–he doesn't feel worthy.

**ichigo:** Peeves only has power among the spirits. And trust me, it's not nearly enough power to give him control over life and death. Peeves is more of a supervisor than an almighty deity. Most of his power comes from his abilities to touch objects and annoy people.

**Lady Kazaana:** Look! It's that Ari girl! Yes, you kind of figured it out.

**Lahar:** Awww... I'm glad you liked that much.

**Libby Bird:** I actually only have one or two more chapters after this one. Sorry.

**Krenya:** Aww, did I make you cry? Or is that because the story is so bad? Are you still in the same dorm, by the way?

**Pline:** I would bring Ron back if I had that nifty machine from the _Casper_ movie.

**Quixotic-Feline:** Well, I was in a stupidly-girly mood when I wrote it. I'm like that. I couldn't resist.

**Remmy Wolf**: Cursed people who steal names!

**rosepetal13:** Oh, no! Hermione won't kill herself. Though that is a fun idea...

**Tabitha78**: I don't know if Ron will ever be able to utter "I love you" to Hermione, but I'll see what I can do. And yes, Percy and Ron still must realize how they really have bonded.

: Don't worry; it's not yet over!


	31. Heaven

**SHOUT OUTS!**

_**xPussyWillowKittenx:**_ Bittersweet. I don't think I can avoid that with reunions. )

**_v-babe24:_** Well, what would you be thinking if you saw the ghost of someone you knew? DDR Extreme is better than II!

**_Tabitha78:_** Thanks! I kind of feel that the whole story was building toward their conversations...

**_Satine-cm:_** You're welcome. I couldn't resist ending the chapter that way. I was so apprehensive about the reunion...

**_rosepetal13:_** Eh, Percy's been through a lot. And yes, sappiness is good.

**_Remmy Wolf:_** Thank-you! You'll see below how the react to Percy. I hope it works.

**_Quioxotic-Feline:_** Wow, thank-you so much! I was worried about how the emotions would pull off. I couldn't let Fred and George stop being goofy Fred and George.

_**Pline:**_ It was very satisfying to be the authoress and get to force Percy to visit his family. I wish he would do that in the books....

_**meenyrocks:**_ Thanks!

**_LJ Fan:_** I'm sorry, but I don't know if I can kill off Hermione yet. You'll have to see. Well, Spanglish was incredibly boring with no point ever made and a lousy ending. It just didn't work for me. But Series of Unfortunate Events is a downright awesome movie. I think you'd enjoy it. And the books.

**_liseli:_** Yay!

**_Lahar:_** So... you promise you didn't find it cheesy? It's so hard to balance sometimes. )

**_Lady Meriadoc:_** Aww... thank-yee for the love list!

**_Krenya:_** Eh, poltergeists never really were ghosts. But he is something spiritual (probably of chaos, like you said D) so I tried to connect him to the spirit world.

**_Jennifer:_** Thanks so much for your review! It made me happy. I should look up that fic....

**_hydraspit:_** Oh, goodness. I did leave Hermione alive, didn't I? Sorry about that.

**_HiddenFlame42:_** Yes, poor Weasleys. I've driven them through a lot. But they have each other. They'll pull through. I kind of like to think that they are happy Percy and Ron came to see them, but I don't know.

**_duj:_** Thanks!

**_db:_** Yes, there will be a little bit of angst. Good ol' angst.

**_Crystal Lightning:_** Painful? I've never heard of a cliffhanger described as painful. So I apologize for making you feel that way. But I had to end it there. I couldn't resist. Percy's reunion with his family is so important to everything...

**_Bahzad:_** Thank-you!

**_Anonymous529:_** Well, this is kind of the last chapter here. So it wasn't over then. Dang, I'm mean, aren't I? Thanks for reading!

* * *

Percy hadn't even planned to follow Ron; in fact, he scarcely remembered deciding to do so. Like through a dream he was there in the house he had haunted before without ever being seen, criticizing Ron despite how futile he knew that was yet somehow so willing to go himself. 

Why am I here? He was completely free of Ron now, so there was no reason he had come. And it wasn't like this was the only opportunity he'd ever have, not with the rest of eternity staring him in the face. If he really wanted to do something so utterly moronic, he'd have time. And all those countless hours he had spent in this house, just watching, they were worth something, weren't they?

Whatever ghostly version of a heart was left of him twisted into a serpentine knot, so thick and tangled he thought he'd be sick. Sure, like that was possible. But that wasn't what was making him ill, as much as he wanted to blame it. He closed his eyes in a childish attempt to make all the other gazes go away.

He could still sense his father's gaze. No, not gaze. Stare. The kind that only absolute terror and fury brought around. It wouldn't be long before screams filled the air. It would almost be kind of Ron to start them.

He opened his eyes. There was still time to just disappear, vaporate somewhere else. Or just run the heck out of the back wall. But he couldn't move. They were all there, except for Ginny. Every single one of them. Had they planned the attack like this? And there was Ron, already there, already making an idiot of himself.

For a moment his father's lips moved silently, then gave suddenly away to voice. "Percy." It was little more than a whisper.

For crying out loud, Percy thought. It couldn't be that shocking. They had just seen Ron.

But Ron wasn't the one who had vanished for two years. Though Percy had a good excuse for the last year.

If he couldn't move, the least he could do was say something. If that was the answer to why he was here.

He really had missed them.

The Bloody Baron's voice echoed in his mind, asking him the same questions and then blending with Ron's. Like a panic day at the Ministry. But this wasn't the Ministry, it was the Burrow. The house where he had grown up. Why had he hung around here? Was it really the reason for whatever choice he had made at death?

Maybe he really did need to say something. Anything. But nothing came to mind. They were all just staring at him, like he was, well, a ghost, as the aura of insanity enveloped the room. And Ron was there, just as surprised if not more so.

"This is all Ron's fault," he heard himself say.

Oops.

Charlie nearly fainted. Ron stared back for several moments before a grin slowly grew over his mouth and he laughed. "So you did show up."

That only spread confusion.

"Ron's fault?" his mother echoed breathlessly. "But Ron... oh, my goodness. Percy, you're here." She was crying. Were the tears left over from Ron or where they fresh?

Then George laughed, somehow so different from Ron's. "So... you're haunting us, as well?"

For some reason everyone laughed. Count on the twins to save a moment.

If only George knew. "I guess so." Somehow, this was easier than Percy had imagined.

"He's been stalking me ever since..." Ron began. It was useless. No one wanted to think about that.

Molly brushed at her eyes. "I'm... I'm really glad."

Percy hated to see her like this. It wasn't fair mothers had to be that way. But when she was faced with... ghosts, of all things, what was she supposed to do. He searched his mind once more for something to say. "Mum–"

Something glowed beneath her face.

He sighed. "Mum, everything's okay." The biggest lie he had ever told.

"Okay?" His father this time. The possibility that everything could be okay seemed utterly foreign in the word. "But–"

"It is okay," Ron said. A blatant lie from him.

Well, maybe it was. He tried to meet his father's eyes, only to find that the gaze was already locked. "Dad, I am so sorry." Dad? He hardly ever said dad.

Arthur barely flinched, but tears came down as he nodded. "I'm sorry, too. Wow, this really must be a dream."

What was he apologizing for?

"We heard what you did," Bill said softly.

For a moment Percy had no idea what he meant. The letters to the Order. Something as pathetic as those that he had to die for. When he could have just quit his job and left. "Those... weren't anything. I should have–"

Molly let out a sob.

Arthur shook his head. "It doesn't matter... anymore." For a long time there was nothing but silence. "I'm proud of you."

Percy gasped. "Dad." He had to say it. "I love you."

It would have been nice if Ron hadn't had to choke back a snicker.

"I'm glad you're together," Molly said. The first complete and proper sentence. "This is so... We only knew yesterday, Percy. I should have sensed something before."

Fred nodded fervently.

"I should have come back before," Percy said. This isn't right. Where was all the yelling?

"You're forgiven," Ron replied.

"Yeah," said Fred. He sounded very dazed.

Once again his mind went blank. Penelope had been just... screaming. Fudge deserved what he had got. But his family... they weren't supposed to do this. "I'm really sorry."

"Stop apologizing," his father whispered.

What a command.

Finally, someone asked the question. Charlie. "Why are you here?"

"Will you come back?" Bill asked. Is almost a command in itself.

Ron froze. "We can't..." He didn't seem to know how to answer.

They couldn't just keep coming back. Suddenly Percy knew surely how next to impossible that was. They were dead, after all. Life was for the living.

Molly nodded, almost in pain. "I understand." Then she smiled. "But you are here, now."

"Yes, Mum, they are." George's half-attempt at another joke.

"This really is a miracle," Arthur murmured.

Molly cleared her throat, some work toward courage. She was so funny sometimes, Percy thought. "There's something I need to know first," she said. "I have to know, and I don't care how it happened, but I really need to know." She again cleared her throat and wiped again at her tears. "Percy, all they did was show us where those, those... monsters..."

"Buried you," Arthur finished with some difficulty.

Molly nodded, fresh tears coming. "They... they never knew how exactly you..." Another sentence to finish. "They never knew exactly what..."

Bill sighed and rose clumsily. Percy's oldest brother. He never realized how much he had loved him before. "Mum needs to know how you died."

Percy and Ron exchanged glances. Ron even dared to laugh.

* * *

"I hate goodbyes." Ginny could barely speak under her tears. "I hate them, I hate them, I hate them."

Ron attempted a smile, something that would comfort her. Even though in this situation he had no idea how that was possible.

"I'm going to miss you both so much!" she wailed.

"We will, too," Percy said.

Ron once again thought how strange it was that Percy was here–off to the side, yes, but still there and visible. Yet it seemed so small, just the five of them: himself, Percy, Ginny, Hermione, and Harry, all gathered in the Gryffindor boys' dormitory. His only fear was that Dean or Seamus would waltz in. But supposedly they were in class. Where Ginny, Hermione, and Harry should be.

Ginny was right. Goodbyes were hard; the memory of when he had Percy had finally left the Burrow was still so real. Maybe he'd still have to rush back. Just to say... something else.

But they understood. They understood as much as was possible. He and Percy just couldn't stay around... haunting people. He wasn't sure how he knew this. Heck, the girls did it and were quite happy about it.

But now that the bindings were off, he didn't know what he was supposed to do.

"You sure you won't... visit?" Harry asked, still as dazed as ever. "I mean, it'd be neat."

Ron shrugged. "Seriously, I have no idea."

Hermione smiled, crying again. Crookshanks was in her lap, glaring with equal disgust at Percy and Ron. "I'm really going to miss you, Ron. You, too, Percy."

He was going to miss her, too, Ron thought. "You know, your cat can see me."

"He's smart like that." She kissed Crookshanks' furry head. "I'm not sure how that's going to help me."

"Just thought you should know."

"You're sure you went to Mum and Dad?" Ginny asked.

"And everyone else," Percy said gently.

Ginny smiled up at him, from where she lay on Harry's bed. "I love you, Percy." Then a frown. "Harry still won't go."

Ron expected Ginny to once again go screaming from the room.

But Percy only smiled at Harry. "I went. They like you a heck of lot more than me."

Harry's attention swerved to his pillow. "I'll go."

Ginny's smile returned. "You had better."

"She'll make you, Harry," Ron said.

Ginny laughed. "It's probably his revenge for me ignoring him all this time."

"I thought you blamed me." Harry had no difficulty saying it.

"Not once."

"I did," Percy said. "Harry, I'm really sorry about that. And everything else."

Harry said nothing.

Ron almost panicked, then saw that Harry looked almost ready to laugh.

"Do you still, Percy?" Hermione asked.

Silence.

It was good enough, Ron decided. Percy was going to be whiney about that for a long time.

"So, now what are you going to do?" Ginny shoved Harry's pillow off the bed. "I mean, what do... ghosts do?"

The question of the ages. "I have no idea."

Ginny nodded. She had finally stopped crying for the moment. "Percy?"

"Same here," he said.

There was the spirit world, Ron supposed. If he could actually managed to go back there. With Sirius and Bilius and... "Harry," he said.

Harry looked up, somewhat apprehensive. "What?"

Ron didn't know how to begin. He could still see them. Lily, that man who looked so much like Harry. "I... I saw your parents."

Harry actually fell off the bed. Hermione let out a small scream.

"Where?" he asked.

"The spirit world." Like that made sense. "Heaven."

Harry just stared at him, mouth open.

"They send their love. So does Sirius."

"Sirius?" Ginny said weakly.

For a long time Harry said nothing.

"I guess I had never... thought of it that way," Hermione said sofly.

"Neither did I," Harry said, shaking his head. "Ron, what are they like?"

Ron started to speak, but Percy interrupted.

"They're really nice," he said. "Very nice people. I think you would have liked them."

"Are you going to go back there?" Ginny asked.

Percy shrugged.

She sighed. "I'm really going to miss you."

There didn't seem to be anything else to say. Nothing that hadn't been repeated ten thousand times before.

Finally, Hermione stood up, letting Crookshanks hop back to the floor. "We shouldn't miss anymore classes."

Everyone looked at her.

"She has a point," said Percy.

Harry didn't move.

"I'll be fine," Ron said.

Harry hesitated before nodding. "Like anything bad can happen to you now."

"You'd be surprised."

"I don't even want to think about that," Hermione said, scooping up her book bag from next to the bed. She was almost to the door when she stopped. After a moment, she turned around. Crying again. "I hope... I hope I'll see you again. Both of you. And I'm really glad I did get to see you." She walked back to the bed and pressed her hand through Ron's. "And Ron... I love you."

It didn't matter that he couldn't actually hold her hand. Those words were good enough. But what was he supposed to say now?

"Ron," Percy snarled.

Ignore him, Ron thought. He looked at Hermione. "I love you, too."

Harry actually clapped.

She smiled. Then she turned and ran out of the room.

"She'll be fine," Ginny said. "I'm sure of it."

"It's about time," Harry muttered. But he was also smiling. "I guess... I guess I'll just go now."

He didn't move. "Really, this was great. Even if I still think I'm crazy."

Ron laughed. "You always were crazy."

Harry laughed as well. "I'm sorry I didn't... save you."

"For the last time, it wasn't your fault."

"I know." He was still smiling. "And I mean that."

"Good."

Harry bit his lip and turned to Percy. "So... no hard feelings or anything?"

Percy sighed. "I didn't mean anything of what I had said. So, that would be great."

Ginny sniffed and wiped again at her eyes.

"I really should go," Harry said. "But... if you can ever... pop back in again..." He paused. "I will see you again, won't I?"

Ron smiled. "I think so."

A few tears slid from Harry's eyes. "Sometimes I feel like everyone important to me just... dies. So that is really good to hear." He walked slowly to the door and opened it. "You're still my best friend, you know."

"Now that's good to hear."

Ginny climbed off the bed, grabbing her own books. "I feel like such a crybaby. But I'm the baby sister, so I get to be that way." Another wail escaped her throat. "I love you both! And now I only have four brothers."

"I think we will still count," Percy said.

She sniffed again. "You had better. And... I want to see you again, too."

"You will."

A laugh. "Good. ... I'll really miss you." She gazed at them a long time, with her big brown eyes, then joined at Harry at the door. "I think I'm going to start crying again."

Too late.

"Bye. I love you."

Then, with a last wave, they left.

Ron stared at the door, feeling almost sick. "They're... gone."

"They'll be around," Percy replied.

"Like you are?"

Percy glanced instinctively at his wrist. "I don't think quite like me."

That was true.

"I think they're going to be fine," Percy said. "If that's what you're worried about it."

They were going to be fine. Of that Ron was sure.

Another long stretch of silence.

"Don't you think it's odd that we got those ropes off and we still won't leave each other alone?" Percy continued. "I think that's what you were getting at."

"Was I?" Ron asked. He had no idea himself. "Oh, well."

"Yeah."

Crookshanks was still in the room, using Neville's blanket as a scratching toy. Ron watched the cat for a moment. "So now what do we do? If we can't hang around them anymore?"

Percy shrugged.

"Your funeral... that's in two days."

He glared, his glasses askew. "What are you saying?"

Ron was tempted to laugh. "We could go to your funeral."

"You didn't go to your funeral."

"That's because they're morbid."

Percy started to grin. "I don't think Mum's expecting me. I don't think any of them are."

"So you're not going to go?" Ron asked.

"No. That's really morbid to go to your own funeral."

Crookshanks now had the blanket in his teeth and was dragging it across the floor. Percy and Ron both stared.

"That is a weird cat," Percy said.

Ron nodded.

"Do you think they'd let us back into the spirit world? I mean, if we sincerely made whatever afterlife choice we're supposed to make."

That sounded good. "I don't see why they wouldn't," Ron said. That had been an interesting place. He could touch things there. "They might have the new Quidditch field up."

"Hm." Percy nodded. "That'd be interesting. Do you think we still have to go through that veil thing?"

As he spoke, an odd light filled a corner of the room.

Ron watched it, amazed. Had he already chose?

"Choices." A too-familiar voice spoke, and Peeves sprang from the wall, waving his colorful hat. "Yes, yes, yes. So you finally chose to leave. Very few ghosts bother to do that. They get so attached to what's going on here. Which isn't bad, I suppose."

Percy sighed and rolled his eyes. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, since you asked," Peeves plopped his hat back on his head. "I came here to paint the walls green." He whipped out a can of paint and tossed it on one of the walls, where it failed to break open.

Ron glanced at the light. "We were going to..."

"The spirit world?" Peeves pried open the can of paint and once again flung it at the wall. Paint splattered everywhere. "I thought as much. Like I said, few ghosties bother to do that. Not that it isn't possible. But I thought, besides painting this room a pretty green, that since you were thinking of going back to that world, maybe you would like to choose to come back."

"What?" Percy asked, clearly confused.

"No hauntings," Peeves said, waving his finger. "No stuff that Peeves gets to do. Except for some things. I just thought that you should be aware that if you're in the spirit world, you can choose to waltz back here. And waltz back again." He began to waltz with the can's lid. "Peevsies can make it possible, I can. I know who to talk to. Of course, you can't bug people constantly, and I'm sure you'll be quite happy in the spirit world. But there will be benefits?"

Ron had no idea what the poltergeist was talking about. "Benefits? For what?"

"These benefits!" he said happily. He flew to the half-empty paint can and picked it up. "I'm no angel, but angels can also do this."

Something screamed in the back of Ron's mind.

"Angels?" Percy repeated.

"Angels," Peeves confirmed. "If you want, of course, I can talk to some people... none of your live friends have to know."

Ron stared at Percy, still confused. But if what Peeves said was the truth... Ron had practically promised visits. What did Percy think of this?

Percy smiled at Ron, shrugging. "What do you think?"

"I don't know. What do you think?"

"Too much thinking, too much thinking," Peeves complained. "You can go right now and you can decide later. Though I promise it will be nice."

It would be really nice, Ron thought. "Percy?"

Percy readjusted his glasses thoughtfully. "It would be nice. Peeves, why are you offering us this?"

The poltergeist cackled. "Just a little favor from Peeves. A bit of joke. A joke to not play a joke because all I do is jokes."

That made some sense.

"And those silly girls would like it."

The light in the corner was brighter than ever. Yes, Ron thought. He really wanted to do this. Hopefully Percy was planning on coming.

That was probably true, from the look on his brother's face. But there wasn't a chance to speak. Peeves snuck up from behind and pushed them both into the light. "I think it would be good for both of you."

**The End!**

_Well, that's it. Now all I have left to do is further editing. It's the only way to end it I felt good about. What do you think will happen to them now?_

_Wow, I'm really going to miss writing this story. (Despite what those of you who know me have heard me saying about rejoicing in finally finishing this.) My heart is breaking at this very moment. I'm kind of tempted to write a sequel (and yes, I do have a really little baby plot bunny.) So I'll see what happens in that department. Still, it's kind of interesting to look back and see where this story has gone. My original idea was actually a complete and utter angsty drama centering mainly around Percy. Still not sure how Ron got in there, but I loved him as a main character. It was probably very mean of me to kill off Harry's best friend, but I also enjoyed exploring a different side of grieving and a look at the afterlife. I have a very strong belief in life after death–not quite what I put in this fic, but I do have one. I hope you all appreciated it, no matter what you believe._

_I am currently working on The Veil Can Wait, which a few of you have stumbled upon. It's another attempt to look at life and death and the afterlife._

_I'd also like to give my deepest thanks to every single person who has read this. I loved reading your reviews, and I will eternally appreciate all the comments and criticism you have given me. You are all wondeful! You all know who you are, and I love you, I love you, I love you!_

_Free Candy to all!_


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